WRIGHT 


BANCROFT    LIBRARY 


This  Book  is  supplied  by  MESSRS.  SMITH, 
ELDER  &  Co.  to  Booksellers  on  terms  which  will 
not  admit  of  their  allowing  a  discount  from  the 
advertised  price. 


A   THREE-FOOT   STOOL 


THREE-FOOT  STOOL 


BY 

PETER  WRIGHT 


"  When  on  my  three-foot  stool  I  sit  and  tell 
the  .  .  .  feats  I  have  done." 

CYMBELINE. 


LONDON 

SMITH,  ELDER,  &  CO.,   15   WATERLOO  PLACE 

1909 

[All  rights  reserved] 


Printed  by  BALLANTYNE,  HANSON  &•  Co. 
At  the  Ballantyr.e  Press.  Edinburgh 


Bancroft  Library 


INSCRIBED   TO 

.    L.    SMITH 


A  THREE-FOOT  STOOL 


CHAPTER  I 

"  The  midnight  breeze  that  haunts  the  plain 

Now  cools  my  horse's  flanks  ; 
The  wearied  cattle  now  have  lain, 

In  close  and  darkened  ranks, 
Their  huddled  bodies  on  the  ground. 

Around  the  sleeping  herd 
We  keep  our  slow  monotonous  round  ; 

Hushed  is  the  air,  unstirred 
Save  where  the  puncher's  tuneful  cry, 

Also  on  guard  with  me, 
Tells  the  wild  creatures  they  may  lie 

In  full  security, 
And  where  the  creek  keeps  its  soft  song, 

Unheard  in  the  fierce  heat 
That  from  the  sun  all  the  day  long 

On  the  burnt  plains  did  beat. 

The  moon  in  highest  heaven  does  ride. 
Her  palace  gates  that  smoothly  glide, 
Her  ivory  gates,  are  opened  wide 

In  stately  sort. 

The  stars  that  fill  the  silent  night 
Draw  nearer  to  her  palace  bright, 
Their  silv'ry  urns  to  fill  with  light 

In  her  high  Court. 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

The  camp-fire  is  almost  dead. 

Only  the  fainter  glow 
Of  crumbling  embers,  burning  red, 

Its  shadowy  light  does  throw 
On  muffled  men,  who  on  the  ground 

Are  stretched  in  many  ways ; 
They  in  an  iron  sleep  are  bound, 

The  gift  of  arduous  days. 
A  motionless  and  faithful  band, 

Close  to  their  masters'  beds, 
The  little  ready  ponies  stand, 

Drooping  their  patient  heads. 


The  moon  has  dropped.    The  endless  plain 

Has  sunk  in  blackness  yet  again. 

The  darkness  spreads  like  a  broad  main, 

An  unplumbed  sea. 
A  still  more  dark,  oblivious  pall 
Will  on  those  sleeping  figures  fall ; 
Th'  impenetrable  night  will  call 

Both  them  and  me. 


To-morrow  in  the  icy  dawn 

Our  saddles  we  will  throw 
On  horses  fresh,  ere  day  is  born 

Or  things  their  colour  show. 
Again  the  whirling  clouds  that  rise 

Around  the  surging  steers 
Will  fill  with  dust  our  aching  eyes 

And  make  them  smart  to  tears. 
And  on,  and  on,  and  on,  and  on, 

We'll  press  each  tired  beast 
Till  even  Twilight  shall  have  gone 

To  her  house  in  the  East. 
Again  the  noontide's  javelin  rays 

Upon  us  will  be  bent, 
Another  day  of  many  days 

In  heat  and  labour  spent. 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  3 

His  golden  sword  the  sun  has  drawn, 
Rising  to  journey  at  the  dawn. 
The  splendour  of  his  arms  is  borne 

Afar  on  high, 

And  as  he  marches  glad  and  fleet, 
The  sands  beneath  his  shining  feet 
Are  warm  and  bright  to  where  they  meet 

The  cloudless  sky." 

CATTLE-RANCHING  is  not  an  invention  of  the 
white  man.  It  is  in  its  origin  Mexican,  and  is  an 
ingenious  solution  of  a  very  difficult  problem — 
profitable  cattle-farming.  Or  it  is  perhaps  giving 
too  much  credit  to  an  incapable  race  to  call  it 
a  solution,  which  implies  the  deliberate  application 
of  a  thinking  mind.  It  is  the  result  of  a  few  simple 
conditions,  a  continent  of  waving  grassy  plains, 
a  race  with  a  strong  aversion  to  anything  as 
arduous  as  agriculture,  and  absence  of  capital. 
To  turn  cattle  loose  to  breed  in  this  unenclosed 
country,  and  to  handle  the  animals,  that  had 
almost  relapsed  into  their  original  wildness,  on 
horseback,  was  a  simple  proceeding.  A  business 
that  was  partly  farming  and  partly  hunting  was 
suited  to  the  genius  of  the  Mexican,  partly  white 
and  partly  Indian.  In  Europe  almost  at  all  times 
land  has  been  too  valuable,  and  agriculture  too 
far  advanced  for  such  a  grand  and  careless  system, 
and  the  farm  has  always  been  too  small,  the 
stock  too  carefully  tended.  But  nothing  here  is 
a  discovery  of  Texan  or  Mexican  genius.  The 
system  is  the  result,  the  almost  inevitable  result, 
of  certain  conditions,  and  it  is  found  wherever 
those  conditions  prevail,  as,  for  example,  it  existed 


4  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

in  Ireland  three  centuries  ago.  Irish  ranching 
would  be  as  obscure  as  it  deserves  to  be  if  the 
poet  Spenser  had  not  taken  to  it,  hoping  to  "  strike 
it  rich  "  in  Cork  as  he  had  hoped  to  do  at  Eliza- 
beth's Court.  Writing  was  to  him,  as  it  is  to  so 
many  poets,  not  an  effort  but  a  relief,  and  in  the 
leisure  of  his  dangerous  and  tedious  life  he  found 
vent  for  his  own  exuberant  facility,  his  vast  and 
gorgeous  vocabulary,  and  his  inexhaustible  literary 
impressions  in  his  "View  of  the  Present  State  of 
Ireland."  He  describes  the  Bolies,  wandering  herds, 
pasturing  upon  waste  wild  places,  and  removing 
still  to  fresh  lands  as  they  depastured  the  former, 
driving  their  cattle  continually  with  them ;  a  race 
who  steal,  and  are  cruel  and  bloody,  full  of  re- 
venge and  delighting  in  deadly  execution,  licentious 
swearers  and  blasphemers,  lawless  and  rake-hell 
horseboys,  growing  up  in  knavery  and  villainy, 
who  will  never  afterwards  fall  to  labour,  but  are 
only  made  fit  for  the  halter :  very  valiant  and 
hardy,  for  the  most  part  great  endurers  of  cold, 
labour,  hunger,  and  of  all  hardiness,  very  active 
and  strong  of  hand,  very  vigilant  and  circumspect 
in  their  enterprises,  very  present  in  perils,  very 
great  scorners  of  death  ;  so  that  great  warriors 
said  that,  in  all  the  services  which  they  had  seen 
abroad  in  foreign  countries,  they  never  saw  a  more 
comely  horseman  than  the  Irishman. 

These  are  the  very  words  of  Spenser.  His 
dreams  of  wealth  were  as  much  a  mirage  in  Cork 
as  in  Whitehall.  He  was  a  disappointed  man, 
living  besides  among  enemies.  He  was  no  friend 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  5 

of  his  uncouth  Irish  neighbours ;  rapacious,  he 
was  hated  by  them  in  his  quadruple  capacity  of 
an  intruder,  an  Englishman,  a  land-grabber,  and 
a  man  of  culture.  He  despised  them  as  an  artist 
whose  intense  susceptibilities  were  shocked  by 
their  brutality,  and  as  a  frontiersman  whose  for- 
tune they  had  frustrated.  He  had  used  his  rapier 
on  those  savages,  and  there  is  no  more  splendid 
or  more  vivid,  accurate  imagery  in  the  "Faerie 
Queene  "  than  that  used  to  describe  the  gush  and 
flow  of  man's  blood.  They  burnt  his  ranch  over 
his  head,  and  broke  his  heart.  So  this  description 
of  the  Ireland  of  the  Tudors  is  heightened  by  the 
bitterness  of  the  writer.  But,  after  making  allow- 
ance for  his  acrimony,  are  they  not  almost  exactly 
applicable  to  the  Texas  of  the  '70*5  ? 

It  is  still  at  the  present  day  in  the  United  States 
of  Mexico  that  the  model  of  the  ranch  is  found, 
where  the  area  is  measured  by  scores  of  miles 
and  the  increase  by  tens  of  thousands  of  calves, 
and  where  owners  live  in  paternal  simplicity  and 
state.  As  it  is  in  the  State  of  Chihuahua  to-day, 
so  it  was  in  Texas,  then  undetached  from  Mexico, 
when  the  Southerners  began  to  filter  into  it.  They 
immediately  adopted  the  system,  and  an  etymolo- 
gist could  detect  its  origin  by  an  examination  of 
the  cowpuncher's  vocabulary,  which  is  studded 
with  Spanish  words.  It  is  especially  the  charac- 
teristic and  peculiar  words  of  his  trade  that  come 
from  that  source.  Their  mere  recital  is  a  rough 
picture  of  Mexican  life  :  the  ranch-house  with 
its  circus-shaped  yard,  the  corral ;  the  remuda, 


6  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

the  remounts,  the  troop  of  spare  horses — and 
their  tackle ;  the  lasso,  the  rope  with  the  running 
noose;  the  haquima,  the  improvised  rope  halter; 
the  sombrero,  the  vast  Mexican  hat;  the  chaparros, 
the  leather  leggings ;  the  tapaderos,  leather  foot- 
guards.  None  of  this  vocabulary  is  of  American 
origin,  nor  are  the  topographical  names :  the 
canyon,  the  funnel-shaped  gorge ;  the  arroyo, 
the  water-course,  which  is  a  rudimentary  can- 
yon ;  the  mesa,  the  smooth  rolling  down ;  the 
sieneca,  the  grassy  hollow,  and  their  inhabitants; 
broncho,  the  wild  horses ;  burro,  the  donkey ; 
and  lobo,  the  huge  timber-wolf — all  these  names 
make  up,  as  it  were,  the  very  landscape  of  Spanish 
America.  The  appearance  of  the  cowpuncher 
is  even  more  eloquent.  He  looks,  on  horseback, 
neither  Saxon  nor  modern,  but  carries  you  back 
to  the  Renaissances  and  Latin  civilisation.  His 
type  can  be  found  in  any  of  the  pictures  of  the 
classical  Italian  painters  where  horsemen  figure, 
say  for  example,  Ucelli's  "Battle  of  St.  Egidio" 
in  the  National  Gallery.  Just  like  the  condottieri 
who  are  taking  Pandolfo  Malatesta  prisoner,  the 
cowpuncher  rides  in  a  heavy  and  elaborate  saddle 
weighing  about  forty  pounds,  rising  high  at  the 
cantle  and  the  pommel,  with  vast  stirrups  and  cruel 
and  complicated  spurs  and  bits,  and  with  a  straight 
leg.  In  Pisano's  little  picture  that  exquisite,  ele- 
gant, and  radiant  huntsman,  St.  Hubert,  talks  to 
the  gnarled  old  St.  Anthony  in  a  sombrero  of  the 
same  vast  circumference,  with  the  same  prodigious 
spurs,  and  has  the  same  supple,  cavalier  attitude. 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  7 

The  Southerners  who  pushed  into  Texas  seized 
the  strong  point  of  the  Mexican  system  of  farming, 
its  extraordinary  cheapness,  and  they  systematised 
it.  It  involved  no  expenses  except  wages,  food, 
and  horses.  The  wages  were  those  of  unskilled 
labour ;  the  food  required  was  little  else  but 
sugar,  salt,  and  flour ;  and  horses  breed  as  easily 
as  cattle  in  that  grassy  country.  The  grass,  though 
very  thin  in  comparison  with  our  rich  green  pas- 
tures, dries  on  the  stalk,  and  affords  better  food 
of  a  winter  than  in  summer ;  it  is  "  self-curing/' 
a  winter  food  supplied  by  nature.  Each  of  the 
items  of  expense,  therefore,  is  low,  and  there  is 
nothing  to  be  spent  on  land,  fences,  fixtures,  roll- 
ing stock,  or  crops.  The  prairie  lay  in  front  of 
them  from  which  they  could  help  themselves.  The 
farmer,  that  is,  the  cowman,  kept  his  camp  circu- 
lating with  its  farm  hands,  the  cowpunchers,  on  the 
common, the  "open  range,"  where  his  stock  browsed. 
There  was  little  to  do  except  vigilantly  to  put  his 
brand  on  every  calf  born  of  his  cows.  He  kept 
his  own  flock  as  much  as  he  could  together, 
"rounded  them  up,"  but  they  were  unavoidably 
confused  with  those  of  his  neighbours.  His  main, 
his  essential  task  was  to  fix  his  distinguishing 
symbol,  his  initials  or  some  other  mark,  his 
"brand,"  such  as  a  diamond  and  a  heart,  on  his 
younglings.  As  the  increase  grew  up,  he  sorted 
this  crop  out  and  sold  them.  This  cheap  farming 
method,  the  cheapest  the  modern  economic  world 
can  ever  know,  had  been  pursued  by  the  Mexicans 
haphazard  and  at  random.  For  the  Mexican  is 


8  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

half  Indian,  and  has  the  ineradicable  waywardness 
of  the  Indian,  just  as  he  has  his  superb  physical 
skill.  The  Texans  followed  it  with  deliberate  care 
and  regularity.  It  was  a  time,  too,  when  Britain 
and  industrial  America  found  themselves  unable 
to  supply  their  growing  urban  population  with 
the  meat  their  carnivorous  tastes  required,  so  the 
demand  for  cheap  cattle  was  insatiable.  From 
the  Civil  War  onwards  these  nomad  cattlemen 
spread  from  Texas  all  over  the  centre  of  the  con- 
tinent. The  advance  of  these  migratory  farmers, 
armed  with  rifles  and  revolvers,  into  the  wilder- 
ness and  savagery  was  not  unheroic.  The  cow- 
boy caught  popular  imagination  and  drew  some 
of  the  golden  light  of  romance  on  his  dishevelled 
person.  Certainly  the  earlier  pioneers  were  not 
altogether  undeserving  of  it,  and  some  of  their 
halo  still  rests  on  their  rather  degenerate  suc- 
cessors. 

Their  work  is  considerable.  By  invading  the 
central  portion  of  the  continent  they  united  two 
nations,  the  Americans  of  the  Atlantic  and  the 
Americans  of  the  Pacific  coast.  It  was  origin- 
ally for  their  convenience  that  the  great  trans- 
continental railroads  were  built  which  finally 
bound  together  in  their  hoops  of  steel  those 
various  peoples  and  countries,  the  Yankees  of 
the  North,  the  distant  Californians,  the  dwellers 
by  the  Mississippi  and  in  the  South.  They  dis- 
possessed the  Red  Indian,  no  puny  adversary, 
desperately  defending  his  last  ground.  The  in- 
herent nullity  of  the  central  government  in  the 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  9 

States — which  are  always  States,  and  not  a  single 
State,  with  the  common  weakness  of  a  confede- 
racy at  the  centre — left  them  almost  unassisted  in 
their  work.  Its  interference,  such  as  it  was,  was 
too  vacillating  to  protect  either  the  Indian  or  the 
white  man.  They  were  almost  discoverers.  The 
wide,  unexplored  ocean  of  pasture  lay  always  in 
front  of  them,  unbroken  plains  as  in  Texas  itself, 
or  still  more  unknown,  the  lovely  and  enchanted 
woods  of  the  Rockies.  Discoveries  of  gold  drew 
at  times  wild  rushes  of  people,  fired  with  the 
hope  of  fortune,  to  certain  famous  spots ;  but 
the  regular,  unintermittent  advance  was  made 
by  the  cattlemen,  making  known  the  blank  spaces 
of  the  map.  It  was  a  rapid  and  continuous  pro- 
cess. From  the  edge  of  the  occupied  country 
one  wave  after  another  went  out.  Parties  of  two 
or  three  of  them  would  push  into  new  regions  to 
find  sheltered  valleys  and  deep  grass  and  flowing 
water.  Returning  to  their  herds  which  they  had 
left  on  the  edge  of  civilisation,  they  would  graze 
them  along  leisurely  into  the  new  lands.  At  some 
favourable  spot  they  halted.  With  their  axes  they 
cleared  an  open  space,  where  a  stream  ran  con- 
stantly to  supply  them  with  fresh  water.  A  low 
house  of  hewn  logs  was  erected,  and  round  the 
clearance  a  fence  of  heavy  posts  and  bars;  and 
so  a  new  ranch  had  been  formed. 

It  took  barely  two  decades  for  this  great  tide, 
assisted  at  times  by  the  still  more  powerful  current 
of  gold-seekers,  to  sweep  all  over  the  plains  and 
into  the  remotest  canyon  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 


io  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

The  horse  Indians  of  the  plains,  and  the  still  more 
cruel  and  savage  Indians  of  the  Rockies,  did  not 
surrender  their  hunting-grounds  without  a  struggle; 
and  in  that  long  guerilla,  the  whites,  always  more 
determined  and  intrepid  than  their  opponents,  grew 
as  wary  and  as  cunning,  and  as  ruthless.  Till  the 
end  of  the  '8o's  the  range  was  always  worked 
under  the  imminent  danger  of  an  Apache  raid, 
sudden,  swift,  and  cruel.  Few  parts  of  the  Rockies 
have  not  turf  graves  and  burnt  huts  and  ravaged 
homesteads,  and  tales  of  fiendish  torture  ;  while  the 
complete  disappearance  of  the  Red  Indian  from  a 
country  which  within  this  generation  was  his  un- 
disputed territory  proves  the  thoroughness  of  the 
revenge.  Even  more  deadly  were  the  fights  with 
cattle-thieves.  For  many  reasons  the  application 
of  the  law  is  often  interrupted  in  the  States,  but  on 
the  frontier  it  had  not  even  a  nominal  existence. 
Where  it  had,  the  fantastic  institutions  of  the  States, 
where  every  office  from  that  of  President  to  con- 
stable is  elective,  and  which  would  be  unworkable 
without  the  powerful  parasitical  institutions  of  the 
party  machines  and  their  bosses,  led  to  even  stranger 
results.  The  cattle  "rustlers"  (thieves)  would 
sometimes  elect  all  the  officers  and  Magistrates  of 
the  Peace  in  a  county  from  the  elite  of  their  own 
class,  a  situation  not  unknown,  even  in  our  own 
days,  in  certain  big  towns.  Before  the  railroads 
were  built,  and  when  the  herds  were  still  driven 
("punched,"  hence  the  name  "cowpuncher")  across 
the  continent  to  the  markets,  the  official  position  of 
the  rustlers  in  such  a  county  was  of  peculiar  assist- 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  n 

ance  to  them  in  levying  a  toll  on  all  steer  outfits 
passing  through  their  domain,  as  these  brigands,  if 
they  were  strong  enough  to  carry  it  off,  could  have 
their  victims  duly  arrested  by  their  own  sheriffs, 
and  legally  condemned  by  their  own  judges.  This 
was  to  do  things  on  a  grand  scale,  with  the  candour 
of  an  unsophisticated  age.  There  were  more  fur- 
tive methods,  an  infinite  variety  of  them  in  a  vast, 
uninhabited  country.  A  beast  belongs  to  the  man 
whose  brand  he  bears.  Put  your  brand  on  an 
unbranded  calf  and  it  becomes  yours.  It  is  easy  to 
see  the  use  that  could  be  made  of  this  rule,  and 
its  practical  corollary.  A  cattle-rustler,  ostensibly 
engaged  in  honest  ranching,  can  prey  upon  his 
neighbours.  Unobserved,  he  can  regularly  rope 
and  brand  every  maverick  (unbranded  calf)  he 
comes  across,  without  regard  to  the  brand  borne 
by  its  mother.  He  can  have  confederates  in  the 
employment  of  his  neighbours  doing  the  same  for 
him.  Some  of  their  devices  were  curious  enough. 
Of  course,  their  is  always  one  risk  of  detection  that 
must  be  guarded  against ;  a  calf  does  not  leave  its 
parent  till  it  is  pretty  big,  and  a  calf  with  one  brand 
sucking  a  cow  with  another  brand  invites  suspicion. 
The  rustler  must  separate  calves  from  their  parents 
till  they  are  weaned,  usually  by  imprisoning  them 
in  a  corral.  In  secret  canyons,  remote  and  un- 
known, the  curious  cowpuncher,  riding  alone,  finds 
the  ruins  of  vast  corrals  built  by  the  cattle-thieves  in 
the  old  days.  Another  cruel  way  was  to  burn  the 
soles  of  the  little  calf's  feet  with  a  hot  branding- 
iron  and  drive  the  mother  away  so  that  the  little 


12  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

beast  was  too  sore-footed  to  follow  her.  The  petty 
pilferer  could  always  slaughter  animals  and  sell  the 
meat  in  some  neighbouring  mining  camp  or  settle- 
ment, sure  that  the  wolves  and  foxes  would  clean 
up  the  trace  of  his  murder  in  a  night  or  two.  So 
small  owners  would  settle  near  big  ones  and  plunder 
them,and  big  owners  oppress  their  small  neighbours. 
It  was  a  time,  too,  when  prices  ruled  for  cattle  that 
made  it  possible  to  accumulate  a  fortune  in  a  few 
years,  a  circumstance  that  aggravated  both  the  fury 
of  the  victim  and  the  audacity  of  the  wrongdoer. 
The  ferocity  of  the  feuds  between  these  enemies  was 
unimaginable,  and  was  the  real  and  constant  peril 
of  the  occupation,  as  it  is  perhaps  even  nowadays, 
to  a  certain  small  degree.  The  big  cattlemen  hired 
bravos  to  exterminate  their  parasitical  neighbours, 
and  the  small  cattlemen  ambushed  their  oppressors, 
or  they  would  form  leagues,  as  they  have  done  quite 
lately,  and  wage  regular  war.  The  Southerners 
transplanted  their  hereditary  feuds,  which  flourished 
luxuriantly  in  this  air,  like  the  famous  Sutton- 
Manners  feud,  which  involved  Western  Texas  in 
something  like  a  civil  war. 

To  the  risks  of  "range  work  "  on  the  ranch  were 
added  those  of  the  romantic  "  trail  work  " — driving 
a  large  herd  half-way  across  the  continent,  as  it 
was  necessary  to  do  before  the  railroads  were 
made,  to  take  them  to  Kansas  City.  An  "outfit " — 
a  company  of  cowpunchers  and  their  foreman — 
would  take  delivery  of  a  few  thousand  cattle  on  the 
Mexican  frontier  and  slowly  drive  them,  grazing, 
northwards  till  they  reached  their  destination,  an 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  13 

expedition  across  the  plains  sometimes  lasting  six 
months.  Except  for  a  few  landmarks  familiar  to 
the  captain  of  the  drive,  the  country  they  traversed 
was  unknown  to  them.  They  were  exposed  to  the 
blackmail  of  predatory  Indians  and  professional 
cattle-thieves,  against  whom  they  relied  on  them- 
selves alone.  To  these  half-dozen  or  dozen  men 
several  thousands  of  cattle  would  be  committed, 
half  wild  animals,  suspicious,  excitable,  savage, 
always  in  need  of  vigilance  and  tact.  They  had  to 
swim  this  reluctant  herd  across  the  large,  dangerous 
rivers  of  the  plains  ;  when  they  met  strips  of  the 
desert  to  push  them,  maddened  and  almost  blind 
with  thirst,  to  the  next  pools ;  and  to  spend  every 
night  under  the  imminence  of  a  stampede. 

It  may  be  doubtful  whether,  even  under  these 
circumstances,  cowboys  ever  rose  to  the  true 
chivalrous  height.  It  is  difficult  to  see  how  men 
who  have  been  deprived  of  any  other  aim  from 
boyhood  to  manhood  than  to  increase  their  wages 
from  £i  to  £2  a  week  can  ever  do  so.  Commercial 
honesty  and  sincere  family  affection  flourish  at  that 
level  of  life  as  much  as  elsewhere,  but  not  a  delicate 
sense  of  personal  honour,  distinction  of  character, 
the  trained  instincts  of  the  gentleman,  regard  for 
the  feelings  of  others,  humanity  and  gentleness, 
and  generosity  and  magnanimity.  It  is  not  there 
that  these  virtues  live  and  grow  aloft.  Set  from 
boyhood  to  menial  and  mechanical  tasks,  sur- 
rounded by  sordid  and  ugly  things  and  boorish 
and  base  people,  confined  and  cramped  by  a  miser- 
ably narrow  horizon,  unversed  in  books  and  un- 


14  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

thinking,  hardened  by  too  early  a  contact  with  the 
rigours  of  life,  condemned  to  arduous  and  incessant 
labour,  and  restricted  to  coarse  and  sensational 
pleasures,  the  innumerable  and  unlucky  poor  do  not 
produce  these  finer  and  more  delicate  qualities.  It 
is  only  among  the  small  class  of  the  rich  that  they 
bloom,  among  those  who  from  the  first  moment  are 
placed  in  the  light  and  the  sun,  on  whom  enormous 
care  is  expended  from  babyhood,  for  whom  a  long 
train  of  attendants  always  will  slave  to  dispense 
from  discomfort  and  illness  and  subordinate  work, 
who  enjoy  as  of  right  leisure  and  fine  food  and 
absence  of  pecuniary  cares  and  the  deference  of 
inferiors  and  the  company  of  superiors  and  travel 
and  the  gratification  of  their  tastes.  From  these 
advantages,  and  the  moral  fruit  they  bear,  the  poor 
are  for  ever  debarred,  and  none  know  it  better  than 
they ;  and  if  determination,  or  luck,  or  ability  lifts 
one  of  them,  they  reach  these  advantages  too  late 
in  life.  Their  characters  and  minds  are  then  fixed. 
Nothing  can  compensate  them  for  the  original 
injustice. 

Still  in  the  old  days  the  character  of  these 
pioneers  must  have  been  remarkable  and  excep- 
tional. The  cattle  business  required  almost  heroic 
courage,  and  all  its  train  of  qualities,  patience, 
energy,  endurance,  fortitude,  judgment.  The  very 
degraded  position  of  cowherd  was  transformed, 
and  its  occupant  almost  transfigured.  The  popular 
instinct  which  glorified  the  cowboy  was  thus  in  a 
measure  justified.  Such  a  history  of  individual 
achievement,  a  class  of  men  of  such  a  strong 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  15 

temper,  is  rare,  perhaps  only  our  African  and 
Arctic  explorers  can  be  compared  to  them,  but 
this  group  is,  after  all,  small.  In  American  history, 
with  its  uninterrupted  record  of  boundless  material 
prosperity,  which  is  rather  sordid,  and  violent 
party  strife,  which  is  rather  futile,  the  conquest 
of  the  West  is  a  splendid  chapter.  The  popular 
instinct  is  here  more  true  than  the  professional 
historians  who,  bookish  and  sedentary  men,  have 
neglected  and  are  not  qualified  to  appreciate  and 
record  feats  and  characters  of  this  kind.  The 
chapter  has  unfortunately  been  written  by  novelists 
and  journalists,  who  have  imported  into  it  the 
conventions  and  falsities  and  sensationalism  of 
popular  fiction. 

The  conditions  of  the  open  range  are  still 
singular  and  special,  very  different  from  those  of 
the  ordinary  cattle-farm.  But  though  the  business 
is  still  invested  with  a  superior  interest,  and  ad- 
venture and  sport  and  some  danger  enter  into 
it,  it  is  very  changed  at  the  present  day,  and 
the  safety  of  those  working  in  it  is  very  different. 
The  Indians  are  now  confined  to  their  reservations, 
guarded,  controlled,  dwindling.  Sometimes,  of 
course,  the  young  bucks  slip  away  of  a  winter 
and  go  hunting  in  their  old  grounds.  Noiseless 
and  invisible,  they  move  about  the  woods.  Their 
rifles,  the  report  of  which  would  betray  them,  are 
discarded,  and  they  hunt  with  the  bow  and  arrow. 
Only  the  lonely  cowpuncher  following  horse-trails 
sees  in  the  snow  the  unmistakable  and  uncanny 
Apache  sign,  the  footprints  set  one  in  front  of  the 


1 6  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

other  in  a  straight  line.  Sometimes,  either  in  fun 
or  anger,  they  plant  their  arrows  in  a  ranchman's 
cattle,  or  kill  his  beef  and  scatter  it  as  a  challenge 
on  the  trails  that  lead  to  his  ranch.  But  at  worst 
they  are  little  more  than  nuisances,  as  the  following 
story  shows. 

Two  Indians  had  been  out  on  such  an  expedi- 
tion with  the  object  of  stealing  horses  and  mules. 
Several  innocent  people  had  suffered.  Prospectors 
and  hunters  had  found  their  saddle  stock  driven 
off  at  night,  and  been  compelled  to  trudge  home 
with  their  packs  on  their  back.  Mexican  shep- 
herds, watching  the  ground  with  ceaseless  care 
around  their  flocks,  found  their  sign  and  followed 
it,  but  not  far.  For  Apaches  are  as  skilful  in 
confusing  sign  as  in  reading  it.  On  stony  ground 
their  trail  will  disappear  altogether.  They  leap 
from  rock  to  rock,  leaving  no  traces.  Or  to  leave 
their  numbers  unknown,  they  will  move  each 
treading  in  the  footsteps  of  the  one  in  front,  in 
Indian  file  in  fact.  Cowpunchers  had  found  ex- 
hausted ponies  in  the  woods  shod  with  raw  hide, 
or  with  their  hoofs  worn  down  till  they  could 
hardly  walk.  At  last  the  Apaches  were  injudicious 
enough  to  steal  some  mules  off  some  enterprising 
ranchmen,  who  took  up  and  followed  the  trail  of 
the  mules,  and  surprised  the  thieves  in  their  little 
camp.  These  barely  escaped,  and  owed  their  lives 
to  their  adroitness  in  dodging  behind  the  trees, 
while  the  ranchmen  took  shots  at  them  in  their 
flight.  Besides  the  three  stolen  mules  twelve  other 
head  were  recovered,  the  net  proceeds  of  the  raid. 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  17 

The  ranchmen  were  exultant  and  enjoyed  in  antici- 
pation the  glory  of  their  return  home.  They  had 
impressive  spoils  to  carry  back,  bundles  of  neat 
little  Indian  arrows,  buckskin  and  raw  hide,  and 
best  of  all,  an  entire  bunch  of  horses.  These 
would  make  an  appropriate  background  to  the 
thrilling  account  of  an  Indian  fight.  As  they 
squatted  round  the  fire  after  supper  they  rehearsed 
the  story  of  the  adventure,  and  each  contributed 
to  the  version  of  the  other  some  vivid,  telling 
detail.  Their  own  outfit  had  been  of  nine  horses, 
and  the  entire  bunch  of  twenty-four  were  turned 
loose  to  graze  for  the  night ;  to  the  neck  of  the 
leader  of  this  band,  as  usual,  a  bell  was  attached, 
the  tinkle  of  which  would  make  it  easy  to  find  them 
next  morning. 

In  the  night  the  two  Apaches  stole  back  ;  one 
drove  away  at  full  speed  through  the  night  all  the 
animals  except  one  mount,  which  he  left  with  the 
other ;  this  other  stayed  close  to  the  camp,  keeping 
in  his  hand  the  leader's  bell,  which  at  regular 
intervals  he  tinkled. 

In  the  morning  the  ranchmen  woke  up.  Evi- 
dently the  horses  were  close  to  camp,  for  they 
could  hear  the  leader's  bell  tinkling  as  he  moved 
about  grazing.  They  therefore  determined  not  to 
trouble  to  fetch  them  till  they  had  had  some  break- 
fast. The  sun  was  high  and  warm  when  they  set 
out  leisurely  to  drive  them  into  camp,  only  to  see 
the  Apache  vanishing  with  his  bell  at  full  gallop 
through  the  woods.  Shamefaced  and  wearied,  they 
had  to  walk  many  miles  home  in  their  high-heeled 

B 


i8  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

boots  and  carrying  their  saddles  and  Winchesters, 
to  be  consoled  for  their  misadventure  by  the  in- 
exorable derision  of  their  friends. 

Other  risks  have  disappeared  too.  The  business 
man  has  come  to  set  up  his  indispensable  machine, 
the  law.  It  works  pretty  well.  There  is  no  more 
brigandage  except  according  to  the  regular  rules 
of  business.  Where  firearms  are  always  carried, 
killings  must  still  occur  :  but  they  may  not  be 
carried  in  town,  and  the  enforcement  of  the 
law  to  that  effect  makes  a  Western  town  quite 
safe  ;  safer,  indeed,  than  in  the  large  capitals  of 
that  joyfully  anarchical  country,  by  the  action  of 
whose  strange  political  system  an  outlaw,  as  in 
Milwaukee,  can  become  head  of  the  police.  The 
carnival  frolics  of  old  times  are  obsolete.  No 
longer  does  a  cowpuncher,  merry  with  whisky,  ride 
his  horse  into  a  saloon  and  rope  the  bar-tender; 
or  shoot  the  lights  out  of  a  dancing-hall  ;  or  with 
revolver  bullets  playfully  knock  the  heels  off  the 
boots  of  a  commercial  traveller ;  or  hold  up  a 
Chinese  restaurant  in  fun.  Out  of  town,  where 
guns  are  carried,  there  is  no  alcohol  to  be  got. 
Coarse  and  brutal  men  cannot  be  expected  to 
stand  the  often  intolerable  strain  of  cow-work 
without  outbursts  of  wrath.  But  they  do  not, 
when  sober,  go  further  than  verbal  threats  of 
"  shooting  the  son  of  a  gun  plumb  between  the 
eyes."  If  killing  a  Mexican  is  still  a  peccadillo, 
they  know  the  United  States  marshals  will  hunt 
them  all  over  the  continent  if  they,  without  good 
reason,  shoot  a  white  man. 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  19 

The  "  Long  Trail "  work  has  disappeared  too. 
Railways  now  carry  the  cattle  from  South  and 
West  to  the  North,  and  the  iron  network  gets 
closer  every  year.  There  are  still,  however,  long 
drives  to  be  made,  but  they  last  only  days,  not 
weeks  and  months.  The  circumstances  are  here 
easy ;  the  trail  is  short  and  familiar  and  friendly. 
Even  these  few  days  of  grinding  toil  and  anxious 
nights,  however,  are  severe  work.  Before  the 
east  has  grown  grey,  horses  are  saddled  by  the 
light  of  the  camp-fire.  Without  halt  or  change, 
the  day  of  glare  and  dust  is  spent  in  pushing  on 
the  long  train  of  sore-footed  and  reluctant  animals. 
At  dark,  after  a  day  of  aching  labour,  the  task  is 
not  over.  These  wild  creatures,  who  have  never 
been  in  a  herd  before,  must  be  guarded.  Great 
fires  must  be  kept  alight  to  reassure  them.  Guards 
must  ride  round  them  incessantly  talking  or  singing 
to  them.  If  the  weather  is  dark  and  rainy  they 
will  not  stop  on  their  beds  but  begin  drifting,  and 
those  who  have  been  riding  all  day  must  ride  all 
night  to  hold  them.  Or  suddenly,  for  some  occult 
reason,  the  unguessed  proximity  of  a  mountain 
lion,  or  even  a  horse  shivering,  they  will,  with 
electric  rapidity,  rise  together  and  thunder  away 
stampeding  in  the  dark.  If  the  blind  mass  of 
charging  brutes  take  your  direction  you  must  ride 
for  your  life  in  the  dark.  This  kind  of  experience, 
continued  over  a  period  of  months,  must  have  been 
a  great  school  of  patience  and  endurance. 

Finally  the  open  range  itself,  with  the  absence 
of  enclosures  which  is  the  distinguishing  peculiarity 


20  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

of  ranching  and  from  which  all  its  characteristics 
flow,  is  disappearing  too.  The  barbed-wire  fences 
are  creeping  up  upon  it  everywhere,  and  in  another 
decade  it  will  be  almost  unknown.  As  the  constant 
process  of  subdividing  the  ranches  goes  on,  the 
ranch  itself  diminishes  and  sinks  into  a  farm. 
With  the  open  range  the  cowpuncher  will  vanish  : 
he  reverts,  after  his  brilliant  flight,  to  the  grub 
condition  of  herd.  Enclosed  land  and  separate 
ownership,  in  spite  of  the  expense  of  fence-building 
and  maintenance  and  every  other  improvement, 
becomes  the  only  satisfactory  system,  as  soon  as 
all  the  good  land  is  occupied ;  the  open  range 
could  only  be  transitory  and  temporary.  The  en- 
joyment of  the  land  must  be  exclusive,  especially  in 
countries  where  water  is  scanty  and  grass  is  very, 
incredibly  spare.  You  may  cross  a  good  cattle 
country  for  miles  without  seeing  any  kine,  and  the 
proper  allowance  is  thirty  or  forty  acres  to  the  head. 
If  it  is  not  exclusive,  after  the  pioneer  has  con- 
fronted the  dangers  and  overcome  the  difficulties, 
other  men  will  press  into  the  country  with  fresh 
herds  and  overstock  it.  These  intruders  would 
ruin  the  original  occupier.  In  a  dry  hot  country 
the  effects  of  overstocking  pass  belief;  the  de- 
structive powers  of  cows  far  surpass  the  feeble 
powers  of  man.  They  eat  off  the  grass,  always 
very  thin,  and  trample  the  roots  till  it  dies.  Grassy 
stretches  become  a  barren  wilderness.  Then,  as 
there  is  no  turf  to  retain  the  rain  water,  it  drains 
off  the  ground  as  soon  as  it  falls.  One  consequence 
of  this  is  that  the  trees,  unsustained  by  continual 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  21 

moisture  and  only  occasionally  soaked,  die  off. 
Another  consequence  is  that  the  rivers,  instead 
of  being  gentle  and  perpetual  streams,  are  either 
high  dangerous  torrents  after  rain,  or  broad  beds  of 
stones  in  dry  weather.  In  a  few  years  cows  could 
turn  Eden  and  all  its  verdure  into  a  salt  and  dry 
desert.  From  these  disastrous  encroachments  the 
barbed-wire  fence  is  a  protection.  It  also  hampers, 
if  not  ruins,  the  professional  cattle-thief.  He  does 
not  get  an  opportunity  of  putting  his  brand  on 
other  cattlemen's  calves.  It  excludes  that  arch- 
enemy, the  sheepman.  His  innocent  flock  are  the 
dread  and  terror  of  the  cattlemen.  Omnivorous 
and  ubiquitous,  they  shave  the  barren  country  clean 
of  all  its  food.  A  sheep  does  not  browse  carelessly, 
or  capriciously,  like  other  beasts ;  he  eats  rapidly, 
systematically,  and  closely.  Not  only  so,  but  he 
leaves  an  odour  on  the  ground  so  that  no  other 
animal  will  feed  there.  An  indignant  cattleman 
will  find  a  whole  stretch  of  his  range  denuded  by  a 
passing  flock,  and  the  cattle  fled  from  the  country 
looking  for  unsoiled  herbage.  All  these  advantages 
given  by  the  barbed  wire  are  fatal  to  the  open 
range  ;  the  squat,  ugly  fences  have  covered  the 
plains  and  are  invading  the  mountains.  As  the 
ranch  sinks  into  a  mere  cattle-farm,  the  cowpuncher 
too  degenerates,  and  returns  to  his  abject  con- 
dition of  farm  labourer,  from  which  he  emerged  for 
a  short  time.  This  retrogression,  of  course,  has 
only  gone  a  certain  distance  and  will  not  be  com- 
pleted for  many  years.  There  are  huge  spaces  of 
open  range,  and  many  of  the  enclosed  ranches  are 


22  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

as  big  as  a  small  English  county.  The  cattle 
spread  over  this  large  area  must  be  tended,  and 
can  only  be  tended  on  horseback ;  the  country  is 
wild  and  deserted.  The  cattle  are  often  as  wild 
as  the  game,  and  to  control  them  hard  riding  is 
required.  Among  the  game  there  are  dangerous 
animals,  and  the  character  of  your  neighbours  is 
often  dubious.  Firearms  are  still  carried.  The  only 
roof  to  be  found  is  that  of  the  rough  ranch-house, 
and  life  is  spent  under  the  sky  by  day,  and  by 
night  round  the  camp-fire.  The  world  is  distant 
and  its  noise  faint  and  occasional.  This  is  the  life 
of  the  cowpuncher,  which  draws  to  it  those  who 
feel  pent  and  chafed  by  urban  and  sedentary  life, 
and  who  prefer  the  monotony  of  the  wilderness 
and  the  saddle  to  that  of  the  street  and  the  office- 
stool. 


CHAPTER   II 

"  The  rains  with  drowsy  patter  beat 
Upon  the  roofs  ;  in  the  wet  street 
They  turn  each  rut  into  a  rill, 
And  pools  with  thousand  dimples  fill. 
Drop  by  drop  from  down  the  eaves 
They  ticking  fall :  the  rustling  leaves 
Drizzle  their  burden  on  the  mould. 
The  cheerless  air  is  drear  and  cold, 
But  every  sight  and  every  sound 
Reminds  me  now  of  English  ground." 

JOE,  the  cook,  sat  by  the  fireplace  of  the  front 
room  with  his  boots  on  the  chimneypiece,  wearing 
his  spurs.  All  day  a  deluge  of  rain  had  been 
pouring,  and  had  swollen  the  creek  that  emptied 
itself  into  the  Gila  till  its  angry  murmur  could 
be  heard  at  the  Diamond  Heart  Ranch.  Joe  was 
reading  a  book,  and  I  had  just  come  in  from 
riding.  The  door  that  led  straight  into  the  room 
from  the  downpour  suddenly  opened,  and  the 
foreman  and  a  second  cowpuncher  came  in,  whom 
we  expected  out  from  town.  They  had  been  riding 
all  day,  and  the  water  streamed  from  the  broad 
brims  of  their  sombreros ;  without  a  word  they 
drew  off  their  dank  gloves  and  knelt  next  to  me 
by  the  fire.  They  were  left  ungreeted  by  Joe,  who, 
without  shifting  his  position,  surveyed  us  and  our 
clothes  steeped  in  water.  He  remarked — 


24  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

"  Hell,  is  it  raining  ?  " 

The  second  cowpuncher  answered — 

"  I  guess  it  will  be  soon." 

He  and  the  foreman  had  been  riding  the  whole 
of  a  short  winter  day  out  from  town,  saddling 
by  the  light  of  a  lantern  in  the  morning,  and  only 
reaching  the  ranch  when  night  had  begun  to  spread 
its  dark  wings.  According  to  their  custom,  they 
had  taken  no  food  with  them.  Hungry,  and  numb 
with  the  insensibility  of  extreme  fatigue,  we  re- 
mained kneeling  in  silence  before  the  huge  fire- 
place that  opened  like  the  mouth  of  a  cavern.  Joe 
rolled  off  into  the  kitchen  to  cook  us  some  food, 
and  we  could  hear  the  martial  clank  of  his  spurs 
as  he  moved  about.  For  he  was  turned  into  a 
cook  from  being  a  cowpuncher  by  staying  at  home 
instead  of  riding  out.  Two  others,  Fritz  Reinhold, 
a  friend  of  mine  and  a  visitor  at  the  Diamond 
Heart's,  and  Hay,  a  bear-trapper  who  was  spending 
the  night  there  on  his  way  through  to  town,  joined 
us,  and  we  sat  down  in  the  dark  kitchen  to  our 
food. 

The  menu  is  invariable  for  every  meal,  and  any 
change  or  improvement  would  outrage  these  con- 
servatives. Pieces  of  beef  fried  black  in  fat ; 
"  biscuit,"  that  is,  small  scones,  new-made  and  hot ; 
and  black  coffee,  according  to  the  Texan  recipe, 
strong  enough  to  float  steel  wedges  in ;  savage 
food,  but  with  one  great  merit,  not  small  under 
those  circumstances,  that  of  being  very  rapidly 
prepared,  and  no  doubt  this  is  the  reason  of  its 
adoption  by  those  who,  late  or  pressed,  must  yet 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  25 

cook  for  themselves.  Within  a  few  minutes  of 
its  being  decided  to  unpack  the  mules  and  make 
a  camp,  a  meal  of  this  kind  is  ready,  and  the  tastes 
for  this  unpalatable  food,  thus  acquired  by  neces- 
sity, become  inveterate  and  exclusive  ;  the  resources 
of  a  kitchen,  when  it  is  at  hand,  are  disdained  and 
disliked. 

When  we  gathered  again  round  the  fire  our 
spirits  were  bettter.  On  the  floor  of  the  yawning 
fireplace  logs  were  piled,  glowing  and  crackling, 
that  threw  up  columns  of  flame.  The  torpor  of 
protracted  hunger  had  disappeared,  and  the  chill 
damp  began  to  lift  from  our  limbs. 

The  second  cowpuncher  was  asked  if  there  was 
any  news  from  Magdalena,  from  which  he  had 
ridden  out ;  and  in  a  matter-of-fact  way  he  told 
us  of  a  killing.  A  foreman  was  trying  to  get  two 
of  his  men  to  leave  town  for  the  ranch,  it  being 
then  about  two  in  the  morning.  All  were  drunk, 
and  from  dispute  they  passed  to  insult.  Challenged, 
the  foreman  had  put  down  his  six-shooter  and  belt 
on  the  sidewalk  and  fought  one  of  his  men  with  his 
fists.  The  other  man,  Ben,  seeing  his  companion 
worsted,  had  seized  the  foreman's  own  revolver 
and  began  firing  at  him  at  random.  None  of  the 
original  combatants  had  been  hurt,  but  a  Mexican 
who  had  run  up  at  the  sound  had  received  a  shot 
through  the  heart,  and  a  marshal  who  had  attempted 
to  arrest  him  another  in  his  throat.  The  character 
of  these  two  victims  was  bad,  and  the  cowpuncher 
voiced  the  general  satisfaction  at  their  disappear- 
ance and  at  this  eminently  successful  issue  to  the 


26  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

fight.  We  all  felt  that  on  this  occasion  at  least  the 
workings  of  Providence  were  not  inscrutable. 

My  friend  Reinhold,  who  had  listened  to  this 
account  with  the  deepest  interest,  made  this 
comment — 

"  That  Mexican  did  not  have  much  of  a  show." 

"  Show  ! "  exclaimed  the  second  cowpuncher. 
"  He  had  no  more  show  than  a  cat  in  hell  without 
claws." 

The  first  cowpuncher  had  known  Ben  in  his 
boyhood,  and  spoke  of  him— 

"That  boy  Ben  was  the  coolest  I  ever  struck. 
He  and  another  boy  got  them  a  dummy,  and  used 
to  stick  it  up  outside  people's  houses  at  night,  call 
out,  and  then  get  away  and  hide.  Some  got  scared, 
some  got  mad  at  it,  and  some  shot  it.  One  night 
they  set  it  down  outside  an  old  man's  house.  The 
old  man,  he  comes  out  and  sez,  '  How  d'ye  do  ? ' 
Of  course  he  gets  no  answer.  'What  do  you 
want  ?  '  he  sez;  and  he  don't  get  no  answer,  neither. 
Then  he  got  hot  and  shouts,  'God  damn  ye,  get 
out ;  I  don't  want  no  sons  of  guns  like  you  about 
the  place.'  Finally,  he  reached  behind  the  door, 
grabbed  a  Winchester,  and  shot.  The  dummy  fell 
down  backwards.  The  old  man  walked  up  to  it : 
he  jes'  laughed.  '  Boys/  he  sez,  '  if  any  of  you  is 
round,  jes'  walk  up.  I  guess  the  drinks  is  on  me.' ' 

The  flames  burnt  high,  and  the  long  tongues 
licked  the  vaulted  top  of  the  fireplace.  The  cow- 
puncher saw  his  audience  was  amused,  and  un- 
folded his  story  further. 

"  There  was  a  little  bridge  over  a  canyon.     One 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  27 

night  they  set  the  dummy  on  it,  and  hid  below 
in  the  canyon.  There  were  thick  trees  and  bushes 
on  both  sides  of  the  canyon  that  made  the  bridge 
dark  at  both  ends,  and  the  moon  was  full,  so  that 
the  middle  of  the  bridge  was  in  the  light.  It  was 
summer  time,  and  there  had  been  a  camp  meeting 
with  hymns  and  prayers  and  preaching.  They 
knew  a  good  many  folk  would  come  back  that  way. 
By  and  by  Ben's  brother,  Sam,  and  John  Downes 
comes  along,  riding.  They  were  riding  young 
horses,  and  the  horses  got  scared  and  refused  to 
go  past  the  figure.  Sam  asked  the  man  in  the 
middle  of  the  bridge  to  move ;  the  dummy  natur- 
ally stayed  there.  After  shouting  some,  Sam  got 
hot  and  mad,  and  drew  his  six-shooter  and  shot 
it.  As  it  fell,  one  of  the  boys  under  the  bridge 
cried  out — 

'"ByGod!  I'm  killed/ 

"  Sam  and  John  Downes  rode  off  like  bats  out  of 
hell.  They  thought  they  had  killed  a  man.  After 
a  while  the  rest  of  the  people  come  along  and  they 
sees  a  body  lying  in  the  middle  of  the  bridge. 
They  send  for  some  matches  to  see  who  it  was. 
But  they  never  goes  near  it ;  they  were  too 
frightened  the  body  wasn't  quite  dead.  While  they 
was  getting  the  matches,  the  preacher  he  was 
praying  away  at  the  side  of  the  canyon  for  the 
dead  man.  When  the  matches  come,  the  preacher 
goes  to  the  middle  of  the  bridge  and  looked. 

"  '  Hell  ! '  he  sez,  '  he's  only  a  damned  dummy.' 

"Ben  went  home  and  found  his  brother  Sam 
fixing  to  leave  the  country.  He  made  him  change 


28  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

his  mind  and  go  hide  in  the  pasture.  For  three 
days  he  kept  him  out  hiding  in  the  brakes,  and 
brought  him  food,  and  loaded  him  with  all  kinds 
of  tales  about  the  sheriff  and  his  posse.  I  guess 
it  was  Ben  who  had  to  leave  the  country  when 
Sam  found  out." 

He  finished  his  story  laughing,  and  reached  for 
his  revolver  where  it  lay  on  the  chimney.  He 
said — 

"  Sam  was  sure  a  good  fellow.  He  gave  me  this 
gun." 

The  grim,  compact  little  instrument  of  death  had 
a  look  of  deadly  and  lightning  precision.  He  was 
proud  of  its  handles  with  their  ugly  decoration 
of  mother-of-pearl.  It  had  served  him  well. 
While  foreman  of  a  ranch  in  Old  Mexico  he  had 
dismissed  one  of  the  hands,  a  Mexican.  That 
night  he  was  squatting  on  one  side  of  the  fire, 
when  the  cook,  who  was  kneeling  on  the  other 
side  facing  him,  shouted  "  Look  out !  "  and  pointed 
to  something  behind  the  cowpuncher's  back,  who, 
without  turning  round,  pulled  his  gun  and  shot 
over  his  own  shoulder,  twisting  his  head.  He  had 
been  only  just  in  time.  His  shot  killed  the  dis- 
missed Mexican,  who  had  crept  out  with  a  knife 
from  behind  the  waggon  to  stab  him.  The  point 
of  the  knife  was  a  few  inches  from  the  back  of 
the  cowpuncher  as  he  fell.  Reinhold  asked  if  he 
could  look  at  the  handles  and  fingered  it  curiously. 

He  was  interested  in  everything,  being  a  traveller, 
the  son  of  a  German  sausage-maker  of  vast  wealth 
who  made  sausages  for  all  Germany  and  most  of 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  29 

the  civilised  world.  The  father  had  begun  life  as 
a  waiter,  but  in  the  hours  of  his  leisure  had  applied 
himself  to  the  study  of  chemistry.  In  a  laboratory 
where  he  contrived  to  get  the  post  of  assistant,  he 
conducted  experiments  in  the  treatment  of  food- 
stuffs. He  there  discovered  preparations  of  which 
he  still  retained  the  patent  and  exclusive  monopoly, 
by  which  meat  and  bone,  the  refuse  of  slaughter- 
houses and  knackers'  yards,  might  be  given  all  the 
rich  and  delicate  flavours  of  pork.  His  sausage 
factories,  and  the  vast  hives  where  his  employees 
lodged,  now  occupied  the  area  of  a  small  city,  and 
there  were  few  consumers  or  connoisseurs  who 
did  not  prefer  his  pigless  pork  to  the  inferior  pro- 
ducts of  the  real  animal.  His  riches  were  great, 
and  his  success  in  life  had  been  recognised  in  many 
ways  by  his  grateful  countrymen.  He  had  been 
the  subject  of  a  sonnet  by  the  German  Emperor, 
and  there  were  few  of  the  reigning  dynasties  of 
Germany  who  had  not  borrowed  money  from  him. 
He  had  thought  it  right  that  his  son,  destined  to  be 
the  manager  of  a  business  whose  branches  stretched 
over  the  whole  civilised  world,  should  receive  an 
education  more  deep  and  extensive  than  he  had 
himself  enjoyed.  Young  Reinhold  was  now  at  his 
fourth  university,  having  taken  courses  with  bril- 
liant success  at  Gottingen,  Paris,  and  Oxford.  His 
father  had  wished  him  to  pursue  some  study  in 
America,  and  had  sent  him  to  take  a  degree  in 
Pastoral  Theology  at  the  University  of  Amphipolis, 
Wyoming,  U.S.A.  His  reason  for  selecting  this 
new  and  rather  unknown  foundation  for  his  son, 


30  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

in  preference  to  the  more  antique  and  famous 
universities  like  Harvard  and  Yale,  was  his  per- 
sonal friendship  with  the  munificent  founder  and 
first  chancellor  of  Amphipolis,  the  great  Western 
banker,  Cadwallader  K.  Jones,  whose  chain  of 
banks  extended  from  Chicago  to  San  Francisco. 
He  had  expected  this  friendship  would  be  useful 
to  his  son,  but  his  hopes  had  been  disappointed. 
Reinhold  had  never  been  able  even  to  make  the 
acquaintance  of  the  great  financier,  who  was  at 
that  moment  purging  a  term  of  three  years'  penal 
servitude  in  the  penitentiary  of  Denver  for  an 
infringement  of  the  banking  laws  of  the  State  of 
Colorado  ;  but  he  had  penetrated  deeply  into  the 
study  of  Pastoral  Theology,  and  was  taking  a 
holiday  in  the  Rockies  before  returning  to  the 
management  of  the  sausage  business.  I  had  met 
him  at  Oxford,  where  our  acquaintance  had  begun 
by  my  being  carried  back  from  another  college  to 
Balliol  one  evening  by  Reinhold  and  a  German 
friend  of  his,  who  had  the  muscles  of  trained 
gymnasts,  from  a  meeting  of  an  advanced  political 
and  philosophical  society  to  which  I  belonged. 
Subsequently  I  became  less  insensible  to  his  kind- 
ness than  on  our  first  meeting,  and  we  had  become 
friends.  I  had  come  across  him  again  in  the 
famous  slaughter-houses  of  Chicago,  where  he  was 
inspecting  with  curiosity  the  obsolete  methods  of 
making  pork  out  of  pig. 

The  cowpuncher's  story  revived  a  memory  in 
the  mind  of  the  foreman.  He  said — 

"  Ben  was  sure  smart.     There  was  a  little  old 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  31 

Dutchman  who  had  lost  all  his  money  in  Texas. 
One  day  the  Dutchman  was  making  talk  in  a 
saloon  and  he  sez — 

"  <  You  show  me  a  man  from  Texas  and  I  show 
you  a  son  of  a  gun.' 

"  Ben  was  sitting  by  and  had  a  six-shooter  near. 
He  grabs  the  six-shooter  and  jumps  up  and  sez — 

"  <  Well,  I'm  from  Texas.' 

"  The  little  Dutchman  hastily  pointed  to  himself 
and  said — 

"  <  Well,  I  am  de  son  of  a  gun  ! '  " 

Joe  got  up  and  flung  a  huge  log  upon  the 
glowing  edifices  of  the  smouldering  fire.  The 
burning  palaces  crumbled,  and  fresh  flames  flung 
themselves  to  attack  the  new  wood.  The  foreman 
said  to  him — 

"You're  making  that  fire  too  hot,  Joe,  it  will 
soon  be  burning  like  hell." 

"  I  don't  know  what  hell's  like,  I've  never  been 
there,"  answered  Joe. 

I  mentioned  that  if  I  had  been  in  Magadalena 
I  could  have  seen  the  shooting  from  the  window 
of  the  hotel.  Hay,  the  bear-trapper,  who  with  the 
discretion  of  an  old  hand  had  hitherto  kept  his 
peace  among  strangers,  now  ventured  on  a  remi- 
niscence— 

"  I  have  only  seen  one  shooting,  and  that  was 
by  Darnel.  You  remember  Darnel,  don't  you, 
Jack  ?  "  he  addressed  the  cowpuncher. 

The  second  cowpuncher  answered — 

"  I  only  met  him  once,  rode  into  Magdalena 
with  him.  It  was  cold,  God  damn,  cold  enough 


32  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

to  freeze  the  tail  off  a  brass  monkey.  The  ground 
was  frozen  harder  than  the  hinges  of  hell." 

Hay  continued — 

"  Darnel  got  spoilt  by  his  popularity  after  the 
Spanish  War.  He  thought  he  could  do  what  he 
pleased.  One  day  he  was  drunk  and  rode  his 
horse  into  a  saloon,  roped  the  bar-tender  and 
dragged  him  out  of  the  house.  The  bar-tender 
was  a  good  fellow  and  let  him  go.  Then  he  started 
to  shoot  the  town  up.  I  was  in  my  room  and  my 
landlord  rushed  up  and  told  me.  I  was  only  a  kid 
and  had  just  come  out  from  Missouri ;  it  was  like 
candy  to  me.  I  ran  up  to  the  top  of  the  house  and 
saw  Darnel  coming  down  the  sidewalk.  People 
had  heard  the  shooting  and  there  was  no  one  in 
streets,  except  a  nigger,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
road  to  Darnel,  leaning  against  a  tree  and  eating  on 
a  piece  of  pie.  Just  as  he  was  putting  his  big  white 
teeth  into  it,  Darnel  shot  it  away  from  between  his 
fingers  and  mouth.  The  nigger  fainted  and  fell 
down;  I  never  saw  anything  so  funny  in  my  life. 
Then  he  went  into  the  Chinese  restaurant  to  shoot 
it  up,  but  Charley,  the  owner,  rushed  out  of  the 
kitchen  with  a  knife  as  long  as  his  own  pigtail  and 
chased  Darnel,  six-shooter  and  all,  round  and 
round  the  town." 

The  foreman  said — 

"  I  knew  Darnel's  father ;  he  was  a  cranky  old 
man ;  used  to  disappear  for  months  and  years 
without  warning/' 

Joe  added — 

"  He  was  the  oddest  old  man  I  ever  see.     One 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  33 

day  he  went  down  to  the  creek  to  get  some  water 
without  his  hat.  He  come  back  two  years  after- 
wards and  raised  hell  because  his  hat  could  not 
be  found.  Another  time  there  was  some  Indians 
camping  on  the  hill  behind  his  house.  The  old  man 
said  he  would  run  'em  off  it.  He  did  too — but  he 
was  in  the  lead." 

The  second  cowpuncher  asked  Hay — 

"  What  become  of  Darnel  ?     Wasn't  he  shot  ?  " 

"  He  was  killed  in  cold  blood  in  a  saloon  at  Las 
Cruces,"  Hay  informed  him.  "  He  was  shot  right 
between  the  eyes." 

Reinhold  asked — 

"  What  had  he  done  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  Hay  answered.  "  The  man  jerked  his 
gun ;  Darnel  was  standing  at  the  bar  and  turned 
his  head  round  and  the  man  shot  him  right  between 
the  eyes." 

Reinhold  insisted — 

"  But  why  did  he  do  it  ?  " 

"  I  dunno,"  was  the  answer.  "  I  guess  he  wanted 
to  see  somebody  drop.  He  was  just  mean." 

In  the  deep  warmth  of  the  fire  I  had  fallen  into 
a  kind  of  somnolence.  The  foreman  looked  at  his 
big  watch  and  said — 

"  I  think  it  is  time  to  roost." 

Most  of  us  rose,  and  I  lighted  my  candle  and 
passed  down  the  dark,  draughty  passage.  In  my 
room,  under  the  rafters  of  hewn  logs,  I  pulled  off 
my  boots  and  fell  into  the  soft  blankets.  Through 
the  thin  partition  I  could  here  Joe's  voice,  who  felt 
cold  as  he  got  into  bed.  He  was  exclaiming — 


34  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

"  God  damn  cold  storage  !  If  I  owned  a  ranch 
I  would  buy  these  blankets  and  use  them  as  a 
refrigerator  in  summer." 

As  I  was  gliding  down  the  dark  stream  of  sleep  I 
could  hear  the  second  cowpuncher  analysing  the 
phenomenon  of  cold  to  Joe. 

He  explained — 

"  In  these  altitudes  the  air  is  so  thin  it  just  sifts 
through  the  blankets ;  that  is  what  makes  it  so  cold 
in  these  mountains." 


CHAPTER  III 

DURING  a  few  days  there  had  been  a  storm.  The 
cowpunchers  had  spent  these  dark  days  playing 
very  simple  games  with  greasy  cards,  for  they 
would  rather  face  brimstone  than  the  wet.  From 
this  engrossing  occupation  they  could  hardly  tear 
themselves  to  cook  meals.  Sometimes  the  first  cow- 
puncher  going  to  the  door  would  open  it,  and, 
looking  out  at  the  beating  storm,  say — 

"  She's  still  a'  storming." 

Or,  peering  through  the  narrow  windows  at  the 
thick  white  air,  he  cracked  one  of  their  imme- 
morial jokes — 

"  It'll  soon  be  snowing." 

But  at  last  the  thick  canopy  was  withdrawn,  and 
a  sunny  sky  unfolded  itself  over  the  white  ground  ; 
and  we  all  escaped  from  the  dreary  confinement  of 
the  dark  room.  To  my  delight  Belphcebe  came 
out  to  the  ranch.  By  good  fortune  and  undeserved 
chance  her  favour  to  me  was  no  longer  withheld. 
The  change  in  the  sky  symbolised  the  change  in  our 
relations.  The  period  of  coldness  and  mist  was 
now  over  for  us,  and  I  stood  in  the  full  warmth  of 
her  kindness.  During  the  probationary  time  I  had 
duly  endured  the  vexations  imposed  as  trials  upon 


35 


36  A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

me.  They  had  been  light,  and  my  feelings  had  not 
been  lacerated.  Belphcebe  was  of  too  frank  and 
amiable  a  disposition  to  make  them  heavy,  and  had 
only  inflicted  them  from  a  sense  of  duty.  Her 
friends  had  told  her  that  men  lightly  esteemed 
what  they  lightly  won,  and,  discarding  her  own 
inclinations,  she  had  followed  their  advice.  Now  I 
saw  her  head,  with  its  ebony  crown  of  dark  hair, 
daily. 

I  had  set  out  early  one  morning  with  an  axe  on 
my  shoulder,  crushing  the  crisp  snow  with  my  high- 
heeled  boots.  The  cowpunchers  had  started  out 
earlier  to  cut  logs,  and  my  object  was  the  same. 
We  were  engaged  in  building  a  corral  (a  yard)  a 
little  higher  up  the  canyon  in  which  the  Diamond 
Heart's  lay.  It  is  made  by  digging  holes  at  intervals 
of  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  a  circle,  and  sticking  heavy 
posts  in  these  holes.  The  posts  are  then  connected 
by  six  logs  placed  one  upon  the  other.  About  six- 
teen or  twenty  of  these  panels  in  a  circle  form  a 
corral.  Complete,  it  is  an  impenetrable  enclosure, 
defying  the  weight  and  agility  of  the  most  active 
horse  and  steer. 

We  were  cutting  trees  to  make  these  logs  and  the 
posts  out  of  their  trunks.  I  had  been  engaged  the 
day  before  at  a  spot  on  the  summit  of  a  high  bluff, 
which  I  was  now  climbing.  Below  me  spread  the 
beautiful  and  broad  canyon  of  the  Diamond  Heart's, 
round  which  the  mountains,  in  whose  very  bosom 
it  lay,  sloped  their  deep  sides  in  gentle  declivities. 
I  was  alone.  The  air  was  calm  and  silent.  The 
other  woodcutters  were  invisible,  but  lost  in  the 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  37 

distance  I  could  hear  the  pleasant  sound  of  their 
axes. 

Like  most  applications  of  physical  strength,  the 
mere  use  of  an  axe  is  not  in  itself  difficult.  I  had 
gained  sufficient  experience  to  realise  what  an 
exhibition  of  skill  is  the  ease  and  force  of  a  genuine 
lumberman,  who  can  almost  shave  you  with  his 
axe,  without  being  able  to  emulate  their  force  and 
accuracy,  or  avoid  muscular  exertion.  I  actively 
but  unskilfully  continued  my  labour  among  the 
variety  of  trees  that  clothed  the  bluffs  and  those 
opposite ;  oaks,  <  whose  wood  of  all  is  the  most 
useful  to  man.  Obstinate  and  as  resisting  as  iron, 
it  has  the  strength  and  longevity  required  for 
building.  Kindling  slowly  and  reluctantly  as  a 
fuel,  it  burns  long  and  warmly,  transforming  itself 
into  glowing  piles,  burning  ember  palaces,  that 
suddenly  vanish  into  ashes.  There  were  the  trees 
of  the  desert,  junipers,  leafless,  twisted,  gaunt, 
looking  like  some  prophet  lost  in  the  wilderness, 
wildly  waving  his  gnarled  arms  at  humanity. 
There  were  pines,  tall  and  numberless,  rich  in 
odorous  gums.  These  are  the  wood  for  dark 
mornings,  when  the  sun  is  not  yet  risen  on  camp; 
at  the  touch  of  fire  they  throw  up  jovial  and 
triumphant  flames. 

I  had  been  working  steadily  when,  looking  down 
from  the  edge  of  the  bluff,  I  saw,  to  my  delight, 
Belphcebe  approaching.  My  eyes  pursued  her 
in  her  light  and  joyful  ascent.  Grace  was  in 
her  movements  as  she  climbed  the  precipitous  side 
of  the  hill,  and  she  was  still  sparkling  from  the 


38  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

pleasure  of  the  exercise  when  she  reached  me, 
and  breathless.  As  I  pressed  her  lips  I  could 
feel  against  my  breast  the  quick  rise  and  fall  of 
her  bosom,  which,  like  fruit  in  May,  had  hardly 
begun  to  swell,  and  only  hinted  its  presence  be- 
neath her  dress. 

I  asked  her  why  she  had  come  out  to  interrupt 
me.  She  answered — 

"  I  thought  your  work  would  now  be  done,  I 
want  some  help  to  find  my  wandering  horse 
Rosea.  He  is  lost  among  those  bluffs.  To  search 
with  you  would  still  be  sweet.  But  do  not  let 
me  stop  what  you  are  doing." 

I  would  have  replied  with  a  kiss,  but  she  lifted 
her  arm  with  rosy  pudency,  and  the  flush  of  her 
efforts  grew  deeper  on  her  cheeks.  She  sat  down 
to  wait  as  demure  as  a  good  little  child.  The 
riding-dress  of  blue  canvas  she  wore  became  her 
deliciously.  The  full  trousers  covered  by  the 
short  skirt  and  furled  round  her  straight,  vigorous 
legs,  gave  her  walk  a  huntress'  gait ;  but  curled 
on  her  wooden  seat  she  had  the  appearance  of 
an  Oriental  beauty,  escaped  from  captivity  into 
the  mountains. 

I  resumed  my  tedious  work  with  energy.  I 
had  already  made  a  deep  breach  in  one  of  the 
trees  when  she  arrived.  It  now  quivered  and 
swayed,  and  the  whole  structure  fell  in  a  heap 
on  the  ground.  I  stood  in  a  heroic  attitude  above 
the  pile  and  said — 

"  I  feel  like  a  Homeric  hero  who  strikes  with 
blows  of  a  great  axe  a  lofty  tower,  firm  planted 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  39 

on  its  base.  But  at  last  it  slowly  oscillates  and 
loudly  falls  in  heaps  of  stones  and  dust." 

In  this  leafy  ruin  I  tugged  and  chopped.  Bel- 
phoebe  began  to  assist  me,  but  I  ordered  her  to 
desist.  She  protested — 

"  Oh,  let  me  help  !  I  do  not  like  to  sit  with 
empty  hands  while  you  exert  yourself.  This  sharp 
air  lends  work  itself  a  glow,  while  idleness  sits 
shivering,  and  heavy  tasks  in  common  done  bind 
with  a  closer  and  a  stronger  grasp  than  all  the 
pleasures  shared.  If  we  should  leave  the  ones  we 
love  to  labour  unassisted,  of  what  use  then  is 
love  ?  " 

I  replied — 

"On  these  rough  branches  you  will  tear  your 
hands,  and  I  would  rather  strain  my  back  and  crack 
each  sinew  that  I  have  rather  than  that  your  finger 
should  be  scratched/' 

She  skipped  among  the  branches  and  tugged 
at  those  I  lopped  off  at  the  trunk.  Her  desire 
was  to  use  the  axe  itself,  but  no  petition  of  hers 
could  have  induced  me  to  let  her  swing  that 
heavy  mass  of  sharp  steel  so  near  her  feet.  To 
evade  her  wish  I  said  it  was  time  we  looked  for 
her  horse. 

I  put  on  my  coat,  but  before  setting  out  we 
looked  at  the  scene  which  lay  before  us.  The 
mountains  on  the  other  side  of  the  canyon  were 
still  deep  in  snow.  The  tall  straight  pines,  spread- 
ing their  white  branches,  looked  like  the  masts 
of  an  innumerable  fleet,  frozen  by  an  enchant- 
ment. For  the  moment  the  hollow  echoing  of 


40  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

the  axes  had  ceased.  The  murmur  of  the  little 
stream,  swollen  with  melted  snow  and  furious, 
was  the  only  sound  in  the  valley.  The  scene  was 
lovely,  and  Belphcebe  put  her  hand  in  mine  as 
we  watched  it. 

We  clambered  long  among  the  thickets  of  live 
oak  and  round  rocky  bluffs  without  seeing  her 
horse  anywhere.  Her  object  was  to  give  it  some 
corn  ;  I  laughed  at  her  intention  and  her  horse, 
as  I  always  did.  Her  purchase  had  been  chari- 
table, and  though  strong  and  trustworthy,  it  was 
meagre  and  of  doleful  countenance.  We  found 
bands  of  horses,  who  are  sociable  and  live  in  com- 
panies, but  he  was  not  among  them.  Evidently 
he  had  developed  a  meditative  and  philosophical 
turn  of  mind,  in  harmony  with  his  person,  and 
had  retired  from  the  grazing  herds  of  his  thought- 
less comrades.  I  gave  this  explanation  of  his 
disappearance  to  Belphcebe,  who  smiled  and 
said — 

"  He  is  a  faithful  beast,  enduring,  gentle,  and 
he  has  suffered  much  to  make  him  thin.  I  pur- 
chased him  to  save  him  from  the  hand  of  an  un- 
feeling man.  The  ridicule  you  cast  upon  him 
does  not  hurt." 

We  had  reached  a  kind  of  platform  dominating 
the  canyon,  and  I  asked  Belphoebe  if  she  would 
sing  a  song.  She  assented  at  once.  It  was  an 
excellent  theatre ;  above  was  the  radiant  dome 
of  blue,  under  which  the  white  snow,  covering 
the  mountains  and  the  valley,  shone  with  insuffer- 
able splendour :  she  lifted  her  voice — 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  41 

"  O  well  beloved, 

The  angry  storm  may  chide 
And  beat  upon  us  with  its  bitter  wind, 

If  you  from  me  are  not  removed, 
And  I  am  pressed  against  your  side, 

And  feel  your  heart  is  kind. 

For  all  the  blinded  world's  ingratitude 

I  do  not  care ; 

Nor  the  insensate  fits  of  strife 
That  poison  our  short  life, 

If  you  with  loyalty  will  bear 
Me  at  your  side  along  the  uneven  road  and  rude." 

It  was  an  ancient  tune,  all  flourishes  and  falls, 
and  on  that  stage  took  me  with  ravishment.  After 
a  while  we  resumed  our  search,  and  my  eye  was 
caught  by  Rosea's  gaunt  back  pondering  the  uni- 
verse under  a  juniper.  His  ascetic  frame  was 
couched  on  a  piece  of  dry  ground.  But  he  was 
not  alone  in  his  retreat :  two  little  black  donkeys 
had  joined  him  as  disciples.  The  little  sect 
watched  us  approaching,  slowly  turning  their 
heads  as  they  lay  on  the  ground.  When  it  be- 
came certain  we  were  making  a  circuit  to  drive 
them  down  to  the  ranch,  they  heaved  themselves 
up  and  began  making  their  way  down  the  moun- 
tains voluntarily.  The  erect,  black  ears  of  the 
donkeys  gave  them  a  hypocritical  look :  I  doubted 
whether  their  conversion  to  the  views  of  the  emaci- 
ated and  earnest  Rosea  was  sincere.  They  as- 
tutely selected  the  smoothest  way  down,  keeping 
a  single  file.  Rosea  dropped  his  head  from  his 
lank  shoulders,  dejected  at  being  driven  back 
into  secular  affairs.  The  two  little  donkeys,  as  I 


42  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

anticipated,  were  more  worldly,  frisked  their  tails, 
and  with  their  heels  cheerfully  lashed  out  at 
Belphcebe,  who  loved  their  antics,  and  was  teas- 
ing them  by  throwing  twigs  and  pebbles  at 
them. 

We  drove  them  slowly  into  a  corral  in  front  of 
the  ranch,  and  I  went  to  fetch  them  bags  of  corn. 
On  my  return  they  were  standing  still,  drooping 
their  heads,  with  a  look  of  injury  as  if  they  could 
hardly  resign  themselves  to  the  prospect  of  a  full 
meal.  But  I  had  hardly  reached  the  corral  when 
I  heard  a  whole  troop  of  horses  rattling  down  the 
hill,  driven  by  the  foreman.  He  had  wanted  that 
morning  a  particularly  powerful  bay  horse  called 
Big  Enough,  which  was  out  in  the  pasture ;  1 
dropped  my  bags  of  corn  to  help  him  drive  them 
into  the  corral,  and  Reinhold,  who  had  been 
buried  in  a  book  on  the  verandah,  dropped  it 
and  took  up  his  position  too.  Belphcebe  climbed 
to  the  top  bars  of  the  corral  and  sat  there. 

As  the  whole  troop  with  downcast  heads  were 
filing  one  by  one  into  the  corral,  the  very  bay, 
Big  Enough,  started  madly  at  the  sight  of  a  piece 
of  rope,  broke  from  the  rest,  and  went  swinging 
off  up  the  hill.  The  foreman  turned  his  own 
beast  in  pursuit,  spurring  him.  As  he  raced  up 
the  steep  bank,  tearing  down  the  rattling  stones, 
he  untied  his  rope  from  the  saddle-horn,  the  whole 
canyon  re-echoing  with  the  curses  he  flung  at  the 
fugitive.  In  a  moment  the  noose  was  open  and 
loose,  swinging  round  his  head,  and  flew  to  drop 
on  the  neck  of  Big  Enough.  The  feel  of  the 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  43 

rope  tamed  him,  and  he  discreetly  allowed  him- 
self to  be  led  back  to  his  comrades  in  the  corral. 

The  day  before  the  foreman,  with  his  eagle  eye, 
had  seen  some  unbranded  colts  flying  among  a 
bunch  of  wild  mares.  He  intended  to  put  the 
Diamond  Heart  brand  on  them,  and  anticipating 
a  hard  chase  after  the  mares,  he  had  procured 
this  fresh  horse.  While  he  saddled  him,  I  drew 
Rosea  out  of  the  herd  in  the  corral  and  led  him 
in  front  of  the  ranch,  where  Belphcebe  patted  him 
and  offered  him  corn,  which  he  consumed  with 
melancholy  satisfaction.  The  foreman  stood  by 
drawing  on  his  gauntleted  gloves,  his  ragged  clothes 
and  loose  scarf  fluttering,  and  his  foot  arched  nobly 
on  the  high  heels  of  his  torn  top-boots.  He 
surveyed  Rosea's  drawn  sides,  and  said — 

"That  horse  looks  poor." 

I  was  struck  with  the  look  of  gravity  and  reflec- 
tion that  Rosea  wore,  and  answered — 

tl  Rosea  is  a  philosophical  horse." 

The  first  cowpuncher,  who  was  going  out  with 
him,  was  drawing  on  his  shaps,  huge  leggings 
that  looked  like  a  divided  blacksmith's  apron.  He 
heard  my  remark,  and  exclaimed  critically — 

"  What  kind  of  sofa  did  you  say  that  was  ?  I 
must  get  me  a  coffee-grinder  and  grind  that  word 
out  to  see  what  it  means." 

His  huge  mouth  grinned  at  being  able  to  display 
this  immemorial  joke  of  his.  In  his  simplicity 
he  viewed  anything  longer  than  a  trisyllable  with 
genial  suspicion,  and  he  mispronounced  any  he 
did  know.  As  they  were  setting  out,  to  give  a 


44  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

display  before  Belphcebe,  he  leaned  back  and 
spurred  his  horse  in  the  shoulders.  The  horse's 
back  humped,  down  went  his  head,  and  he 
"pitched"  at  every  step.  The  cowpuncher,  bal- 
ancing himself  with  his  shoulders  and  loins,  and 
with  his  elbows  stuck  out,  disappeared  down  the 
road,  emitting  mock  screams  of  terror. 

Belphoebe  and  I  climbed  the  wooden  step,  to 
the  open  verandah  where  Reinhold  had  been  sitting, 
wrapped  in  a  voluminous  greatcoat,  reading  the 
whole  morning.  It  was  a  work  dealing  with  the 
products  of  Western  America.  I  took  it  up  and 
remarked — 

"They  do  produce  and  export  a  lot  of  meat 
and  wheat." 

Reinhold  leant  forward  and  spoke  in  his  em- 
phatic way,  which  to  most  people  seemed  too 
absolute :  the  slight  harshness  of  his  German 
accent  made  him  appear  still  more  dogmatic. 
But  the  originality  of  his  remarks,  or  rather  his 
harangues,  was  a  compensation  for  his  tone. 

"  I  do  not  think,"  he  said,  "  meat  and  wheat 
are  its  most  important  products,  though  they  are 
very  large.  I  think  religions  are,  and  will  be  its 
greatest  export  one  day." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Belphcebe. 

"  There  are  at  present,"  he  declared,  "  more  than 
one  hundred  recognised  species  of  religions  existing 
in  this  part  of  the  world.  The  Christianity  trans- 
planted out  here  has  given  out  scores  of  fantastic 
and  strange  worships — Adventists,  Universalists, 
Shakers,  Christadelphians,  Zionists,  Memnonites, 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  45 

Dunkards,  Spiritualists,  Moravians,  Mormons, 
Christian  Scientists,  and  a  crowd  of  others.  These 
cities  of  hustlers  and  trolley-cars  are  the  real  land 
of  faith  and  wonders,  of  revivals  and  conversions, 
of  sudden  turnings  of  whole  communities  to  re- 
pentance, and  the  violent  ecstasy  of  faith.  In 
comparison  we  are  incredulous  and  sceptical,  and 
cannot  show  the  same  choice  of  new  ways  of  life, 
and  new  promises  of  eternal  bliss  and  of  know- 
ledge of  the  future.  These  hard-headed,  nervous 
people  thirst  for  the  supernatural,  and  the  new 
evangels  of  their  own  invention  hardly  satisfy 
them.  They  are  eager  patrons  of  chiromantists, 
sybils,  fortune-tellers,  epileptics,  figure-flingers, 
crystal-gazers,  magicians,  spiritualists,  sand-flingers, 
wizards,  sorcerers,  mediums,  catoptromantists, 
seers,  soothsayers,  witches,  sortilegists,  pythonesses, 
rhabdomantists,  exorcists,  and  necromancers  :  and 
St.  Louis  and  Chicago  have  more  prophets  than 
saloons." 

"  I  think  it  very  silly  of  them  to  have  either/' 
said  Belphcebe. 

"According  to  your  account,"  I  remarked,  "the 
Americans  are  going  to  control  the  world's  supply 
of  religion  as  well  as  that  of  the  other  necessities 
of  life ;  a  regular  Salvation  Trust.  It  is  lucky  we 
are  outside  the  area  of  their  operations." 

"On  the  contrary,"  Reinhold  answered,  "what 
is  most  interesting  is  that  our  semi-pagan  old 
countries  are  beginning  to  turn  to  them  for  new 
creeds.  The  ground  is  ready  prepared,  just  as  it 
was  in  pagan  antiquity  two  thousand  years  ago, 


46  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

positive,  material,  unreligious,  just  like  our  modern 
civilisation.  Our  great  masses  during  the  last  few 
centuries  have  been  absolutely  materialised,  and 
honour  their  religion  with  little  more  than  a  formal 
subscription :  its  intellectual  classes  are  euhemerists, 
who  do  homage  in  public  to  what  they  rather  smile 
at  in  private,  or  philosophical  unbelievers,  and  one 
must  go  far  back  in  history  to  find  leaders  of  our 
nations  who  are  men  of  devotion  and  faith  ;  theo- 
logy, dogma,  creeds,  have  been  abandoned  by  their 
professed  defenders,  the  believers,  who  fly  from 
instead  of  meeting  the  attacks  of  science,  criticism, 
and  philosophy.  The  situations  are  very  much  the 
same,  except  that  we  are  turning  west  for  religions, 
while  antiquity  turned  east,  to  Asia  and  her  in- 
exhaustible fertility  of  beliefs,  and  among  them  was 
the  same  struggle  as  is  taking  place  here.  You 
may  not  know " 

"Be  generous,  Reinhold,"  I  interrupted  him, 
"  I  do  know  how  to  read." 

"You  may  not  know,"  he  continued,  "that 
before  the  ancient  world  preferred  to  all  other 
gods  Christ  of  Judea,  it  had  hesitated  for  several 
centuries  between  him  and  many  others,  between 
Adonis  of  Syria,  and  Attis  of  Phrygia,  and  Mithra 
of  Persia,  and  Osiris  of  Egypt,  and  Cybele  the 
mother  of  the  gods.  Between  them  existed  the 
same  resemblance  that  exists  beteen  these  American 
competitors  :  the  defeated  gods  were  very  like  their 
Judaic  victor.  To  her  faithful  Cybele  held  out  the 
promise  of  immortality ;  so  did  Mithra  the  sun- 
god,  likewise  enjoining  personal  asceticism  in  a 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  47 

voluptuous  age.  He  was  the  most  powerful  and  an 
almost  victorious  rival,  and  the  prevailing  religion 
had  to  compromise  with  him,  to  shift  the  date  of 
Christmas  to  the  date  of  his  great  sun  festival,  where 
we  still  celebrate  it.  Attis  himself,  like  Adonis, 
suffered  death  and  enjoyed  resurrection  for  the 
remission  of  the  sins  of  mankind,  and  his  followers, 
like  those  of  Osiris,  celebrated  this  sacrifice  with 
sacraments  ;  the  Easter  festivals  in  the  south  of  Italy 
are  feasts  of  Adonis  with  a  change  of  names." 
Belphcebe  interrupted  him  admiringly — 
"  It  is  very  clever  of  you  to  remember  all  those 
names.  I  am  sure  they  go  into  one  of  my  ears 
and  come  out  at  the  other.  I  wonder  you  can 
even  spell  them." 

"So  I  anticipate,"  Reinhold  went  on,  rudely 
neglecting  to  acknowledge  the  kind  compliment, 
"  similar  rivalries,  similarly  prolonged,  and  with  a 
similar  mutual  influence,  between  these  innumer- 
able American  sects,  and  it  will  be  generations 
before  one  overcomes  all  the  others.  But  I  have 
no  doubt  that  the  conquering  sect,  whichever  it 
may  be,  a  small  community  existing  now  in  the 
Colorado  mountains  perhaps,  will  not  remain  an 
uncouth  superstition,  but  will  triumph  over  its 
competitors  and  predecessors  by  joining  hands 
with  the  reigning  power  and  the  reigning  thought, 
just  as  Christianity,  originally  a  sect  of  the  local 
religion  of  the  Judaic  highlands,  allied  itself  with 
Greek  philosophy  and  Roman  organisation ;  and 
that  my  new  religion,  whatever  it  is,  will  at  the 
right  moment  find  a  St.  Clement  to  conciliate  the 


48  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

philosophers,  and  a  St.  Cyprian  to  give  it  the 
framework  of  a  perfect  government." 

These  propositions  seemed  to  me  to  be  hazardous, 
and  the  facts  he  referred  to  were  unknown  to  me. 

"  It  is  very  interesting/'  said  Belphcebe,  "but  I 
do  not  see  the  use  of  it." 

"  These  American  beliefs  have  not  done  much  so 
far,"  I  remarked. 

"Only  one,  certainly,"  he  admitted,  "Christian 
Science,  has  taken  root,  but  it  grows  high  and 
spreads  far ;  so  far  ridicule  has  killed  other  attempts 
to  proselytise,  Dowie  and  other  saviours,  but  this  is 
only  a  beginning,  I  am  sure." 

I  expressed  an  opinion  that  Europe  could  develop 
any  new  religion  it  required. 

Reinhold  dissented — 

"  It  will  always  be  positive  and  material,  and 
incapable  of  doing  so  ;  it  will  always  have  to  go 
elsewhere  for  beliefs  in  the  supernatural,  where 
nature  is  not  mild  and  easy  and  to  be  conquered, 
but  terrible  and  invincible,  and  only  to  be  pacified 
by  prayer;  and  for  spiritual  ideas,  to  where  life  is 
not  like  its  own,  easy  and  secure,  but  uncertain,  and 
consequently  future  existence  more  important.  It 
is  only  in  other  than  European  countries  that 
people  live  in  really  supernatural  and  spiritual 
surroundings.  If  you  will  allow  me,  I  will  read  you 
a  story  that  was  once  told  me  by  a  commercial 
traveller,  a  countryman  of  mine,  who  travelled 
somewhere  near  Algeria.  I  took  down  what  he 
said  carefully,  and  you  must  forgive  the  faults,  for 
he  was  not  a  man  of  great  education." 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  49 

He  went  inside  to  fetch  the  manuscript,  and  I 
brought  out  a  rocking-chair  on  the  verandah  for 
Belphcebe,  with  rugs,  for  it  was  cold.  She  leant 
back  her  pale  face  against  the  cushions,  as  if  the 
weight  of  her  black  tresses  was  too  heavy  for  her 
frail  head,  and  was  like  a  pale  winter  flower. 
Reinhold  returned  with  a  roll  of  manuscript,  which 
he  unfolded  and  began — 

"  My  firm  had  instructed  me  to  call  on  the  Sultan 
of  a  small  African  principality.  It  was  understood 
that  he  intended  to  introduce  reforms  into  his 
state,  and  though  he  had  only  lately  ascended  the 
throne,  his  reputation  as  a  progressive  sovereign 
was  already  established ;  his  court  was  crowded  with 
commercial  travellers.  I  justified  the  confidence 
which  my  firm,  one  of  the  largest  dry-goods  mer- 
chants and  exporters  of  Hamburg,  placed  in  me, 
and  was  fortunate  enough  to  capture  his  favour; 
during  the  few  weeks  I  was  at  his  court  I  grew 
intimate  with  him  ;  for  he  placed  all  Europeans  on 
an  equal  level  of  superiority,  and,  like  a  true 
Mohammedan,  knew  of  no  social  distinctions,  an 
advantage  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  utilise  on  behalf 
of  my  employers. 

"One  afternoon  I  had  been  sitting  with  him  in 
an  open  vestibule  of  the  palace  while  he  skimmed 
through  catalogues  and  books  of  designs,  and  he 
had  ordered  several  dozen  cases  of  corsets  for  his 
household,  and  for  himself  a  handsome  cab,  which 
was  to  be  painted  scarlet.  The  vestibule  opened 
on  a  wide  verandah  running  round  the  palace, 
which  was  new,  and  small,  and  had  been  built  on 

D 


50  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

the  edge  of  the  town.  Between  it  and  the  hot, 
barren  country  lay  the  deserted  palace  of  a  former 
dynasty.  The  large  ruins  cumbered  the  ground. 
Improvements  were  a  common  topic  with  us,  and 
I  suggested  the  demolition  of  the  falling  heaps  of 
stones.  The  Sultan  gave  me  no  direct  answer,  but 
I  saw  a  superior  smile  in  his  dark  eyes ;  for  a  few 
moments  he  caressed  the  thick  and  handsome 
beard  that  framed  his  face,  and  said — 

" '  My  father  spent  an  easy  and  peaceful  life.  It 
is  true  that  his  reign  was  threatened  by  a  constant 
succession  of  pretenders  to  the  throne.  But  as 
these  rebellions  were  perpetual,  they  had  this 
advantage,  that  my  father  had  grown  accustomed 
to  and  remained  undisturbed  by  them.  His  was  a 
happy  age,  and  I  feel  how  we  have  decayed  since 
that  time ;  we  had  no  trade,  and  my  officials  thus 
were  kept  honest  and  incorrupt.  Nowadays  I  am 
aware  how  they  take  bribes,  but  do  not  see  how  to 
cure  the  evil.  They  have  been  ruined  by  the 
growth  of  commerce.  My  father  left  most  of  his 
business  to  his  vizier,  and  when  he  was  not  eating, 
which  he  did  well  and  copiously,  he  sat  in  the  large 
court  of  the  palace  where  all  his  people  could 
approach  him.  Holy  men  of  all  sorts,  pilgrims, 
lunatics,  and  preachers,  also  congregated  there,  and 
especially  exorcists,  for  my  father  was  not  only 
strict  in  all  the  observances  of  our  religion,  but  he 
carefully  respected  every  kind  of  Afreet  and  spirit. 
These  holy  men  act  as  intercessors  with  them. 
The  corporation  of  performers  also  enjoyed  his 
singular  favour  ;  hardly  a  day  passed  that  the 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  51 

procession  of  wrestlers,  contortionists,  jugglers 
with  tall  felt  hats,  conjurers,  mimics,  gymnasts, 
leapers,  bear-leaders,  and  monkey-leaders,  did  not 
arrive  in  the  court,  with  a  piercing  din  of  fifes, 
cymbals,  and  cries,  preceded  by  four  acrobats 
walking  on  their  hands,  and  four  dancers  walking 
on  their  toes. 

" '  They  were  always  welcome,  and  my  father's 
greatest  pleasure  was  to  watch  their  monotonous 
performance.  One  day  their  exhibitions  were  pro- 
ceeding as  usual,  and  were  being  watched  by  him 
with  the  same  satisfaction  as  he  had  watched  them 
for  half  a  century,  for  he  disliked  novelty.  But 
they  had  grown  tedious  to  myself,  and  to  my  elder 
brother,  who  was  lively  and  quick-witted,  and  who 
had  seen  the  same  tricks  unchanged,  almost  iden- 
tical, all  his  life.  That  day  we  noticed  a  stranger 
sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  crowd,  glancing  round 
and  round  with  large  eyes  of  curiosity ;  he  was 
different  from  the  other  performers  though  he  sat 
among  them,  and  wore  no  costume,  but  an  ordinary 
flowing  robe  of  white.  He  had  no  professional 
instrument  of  a  familiar  sort,  but  next  to  him  there 
was  a  black  box  and  a  bundle  of  smooth  and 
tapering  sticks.  He  attracted  the  attention  of  my 
brother  where  we  sat  lolling  on  the  ground  and 
whispering  to  each  other,  and  when  the  tricks 
were  finished  he  walked  to  my  father  and  said — 

" '  There  is  a  stranger  among  the  performers. 
Can  he  not  also  show  his  skill  ? ' 

" '  My  father,  who  disliked  new  faces,  glanced 
frowning  at  the  intruder.  But  a  request  of  my 


52  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

brother,  his  eldest  son,  was  irresistible,  and  he 
assented. 

" '  The  stranger  stepped  up  to  my  father,  con- 
fidently carrying  his  box  and  his  bundle.  He 
saluted  him  and  said — 

"  '  O  lord  of  all  true  believers,  may  the  blessings 
of  Allah  be  upon  you.  I  am  ready  to  show  you 
what  you  have  never  seen  before.' 

"  '  My  father  replied— 

"  '  Show  what  you  have  to  show,  stranger.' 

"  '  The  stranger  thanked  him  and  asked — 

" '  I  have  but  one  request  to  make.  I  require  the 
assistance  of  some  person,  some  slave  or  servant.' 

" '  His  demand  was  granted,  and  all  the  court 
formed  a  circle  to  watch  him.  He  undid  his 
bundle,  and  it  appeared  the  sticks  were  no  bundle 
at  all,  but  connected.  He  built  a  tripod  with  them 
like  one  that  is  made  over  a  camp-fire  to  hang  the 
pot  from.  On  this  structure  he  placed  the  black 
box.  These  preparations  excited  our  curiosity  to 
expect  some  startling  piece  of  magic.  The  stranger 
consulted  the  sun  or  the  sky.  He  gesticulated.  He 
used  a  piece  of  cloth.  The  young  black  slave  who 
was  assisting  him  was  ordered  to  move  from  place 
to  place.  This  slave  twisted  himself  with  uneasi- 
ness, and  rolled  his  eyes  in  dismay  as  if  an  Afreet 
was  about  to  appear  and  carry  him  off,  and  his 
grimaces  provoked  my  father's  big  laugh.  But 
just  when  we  were  raised  to  the  very  height  of 
expectation,  the  stranger  stopped  his  incantations, 
and,  bowing  low  to  my  father,  said — 

"  <  O  lord  of  all  true  believers,  my  feats  are  not 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  53 

like  the  feats  of  others.  They  are  not  complete  in 
a  day.  The  night  must  help  me  too.  But  to- 
morrow I  will  conclude  my  trick/ 

"'This  impertinence,  added  to  his  imposture, 
irritated  my  father  and  he  spoke  to  him  sharply. 
We  were  perplexed  to  think  what  could  be  the 
stranger's  motive  in  thus  endangering  his  person 
by  gratuitous  insolence.  My  brother,  who  felt 
himself  responsible  for  the  scene,  ordered  the 
servants  to  drive  him  out,  but  as  he  was  hustled 
away,  he  looked  round  complacently,  unabashed 
by  the  rebuke  he  had  received. 

" t  The  day  after,  my  brother  and  I  found  the 
stranger  sitting  in  the  court.  My  brother,  still 
vexed  at  the  scene  of  the  preceding  day,  avoided 
seeing  him.  But  the  stranger  resolutely  placed 
himself  across  his  road  and  thrust  into  his  hand  a 
piece  of  paper  rolled  like  a  petition,  but  smaller. 
He  unfolded  it,  and  to  our  amazement  we  saw  an 
exact,  but  colourless,  image  of  the  young  black 
slave  who  had  assisted  the  stranger  in  his  per- 
formance the  day  before.  The  roll  of  the  eye, 
the  contorted  body,  were  exactly  reproduced ;  in 
the  background,  confusedly,  was  the  crowd  that 
had  filled  the  court.  Then  it  startled  me  ;  now 
it  would  not.  I  am  familiar  with  these  pictures, 
which  are  called  photographs,  and  I  even  possess 
one  of  myself,  produced  at  Paris,  with  the  cross 
of  the  Legion  of  Honour  hanging  round  my  neck, 
and  wearing  sidespring  boots.  But  at  my  father's 
court  such  a  thing  had  never  been  seen.  It  was 
also  the  first  image  of  man  we  boys  had  looked 


54  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

at,  for  our  religion  forbids  the  reproduction  of 
his  form  as  encouraging  idolatry.  We  were  in- 
timidated and  thought  it  was  impious  audacity  as 
well  as  black  magic  ;  my  father  was  awed,  but  took 
a  different  view. 

" l  This  man  is  useful/  he  said.  '  He  possesses 
great  powers  and  can  deprive  his  enemies  of  their 
lives,  as  no  doubt  he  has  done  to  this  young  black 
slave.  But  he  should  be  careful  how  he  uses  his 
power.  For  this  slave  has  done  him  no  harm.' 

" '  The  stranger  was  therefore  rewarded  and  en- 
rolled in  the  household.  His  name  was  Abdullah, 
and  he  rapidly  ingratiated  himself. 

"'One  evening  my  brother  and  I,  with  some 
friends  of  ours,  were  watching  from  this  room  the 
swift  descent  of  the  sun  behind  these  hills.  During 
the  implacable  heat  of  midday  we  remained  in 
the  inner  courts  of  the  palace,  where  the  fierce 
rays  could  not  penetrate,  and  the  perpetual  shade 
was  refreshed  by  flowing  water  and  the  spray  of 
marble  fountains.  But  at  evening  my  brother 
liked  to  watch  the  strange  and  splendid  colours 
with  which  the  sun  shot  the  sky  before  he  left  it. 
We  were  lounging  in  the  porch,  tasting  the  first 
cool  breeze  of  the  night,  which  was  descending 
rapidly.  Already  the  hills  opposite  were  swallowed 
in  darkness,  when  suddenly  Abdullah  appeared  on 
the  porch  wearing  a  complacent  air,  and  saluted 
us.  My  brother  said  to  him  mockingly — 

" '  Abdullah,  have  you  any  more  tricks  to  show  ? 
Are  they  more  or  are  they  less  wonderful  than  the 
last  one  ? ' 


A   THREE-FOOT   STOOL  55 

"  '  Abdullah,  unabashed,  showed  his  teeth  in  a 
large  smile  and  answered — 

"  <  I  have  a  still  more  wonderful  trick,  which,  if 
you  please,  I  will  show  you  now.' 

11 '  All  we  little  boys  skipped  with  delight  at  this 
offer,  and  I  cried  to  him — 

"  i  Do  you  need  your  box  and  your  bundle  of 
sticks  this  time  ?  ' 

"  l  He  shook  his  head  in  the  negative,  and  looked 
mysteriously  at  the  sky.  He  said — 

"  '  I  must  be  inside  a  house  and  a  room.' 

" '  My  brother  led  the  way  into  this  room. 
Night  had  fallen,  so  he  ordered  me  to  light  the 
lamp  which  hangs  from  the  ceiling,  and  we  all 
sat  down  in  high  excitement.  Abdullah  remained 
standing.  He  waited  for  our  silence,  and  for  our 
eyes  and  attention  to  be  fixed  on  him.  Then 
he  said — 

tl  i  I  can  make  myself  invisible.' 

"'He  stopped  to  watch  the  effect  of  this  statement. 
Our  mouths  were  open  with  surprise  and  none  of 
us  found  words  to  speak.  At  this  moment  my 
father  entered  the  room.  We  all  rose,  but  he 
made  sign  with  his  hand  for  us  to  go  on  and 
walked  on  tip-toe  to  a  corner  of  the  room. 
Abdullah  solemnly  repeated — 

"  '  I  can  make  myself  invisible.  This  is  a  secret 
I  have.  But  I  can  only  do  so  once  in  my  life.  As 
this  is  the  most  valuable  thing  I  possess,  it  is  just 
that  I  should  make  profit  by  it.  I  will  ask  you 
to  give  me  whatever  money  you  have  on  you  at 
the  present  moment.' 


56  A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

" '  Without  waiting  for  an  answer  he  stretched 
out  his  hand  to  me,  and  without  protest  I  gave  him 
the  few  coins  I  had.  All  in  turn  were  solicited, 
and  they  all,  including  my  father,  surrendered 
their  money  without  resistance,  and  his  collection 
must  have  brought  him  four  or  five  dollars.  He 
counted  it  carefully  and  hid  it  in  his  clothes,  and 
announced — 

" '  I  shall  now  make  myself  invisible/ 

" '  Saying  this,  he  stepped  to  the  lamp  and  blew 
it  out  with  one  deep  breath  ;  as  he  had  promised, 
he  was  instantly  invisible,  for  the  room  was  plunged 
in  darkness.  My  brother  and  my  father  were  the 
first  to  burst  into  laughter.  Being  young,  the  rest 
of  us  did  not  immediately  understand  the  mystifica- 
tion. It  amused  us,  but  we  clamoured  that  he 
should  restore  us  our  money.  He  defeated  all  our 
attempts  to  extract  it  from  him.  The  whole  farce 
greatly  amused  my  father,  especially  this  last  in- 
cident, our  discomfiture  and  attempts  to  regain 
our  money  by  argument,  Abdullah's  impassive  face 
and  resistance  to  our  demands.  He  was  in  high 
good-humour.  My  brother  impulsively  asked  if 
Abdullah  could  become  a  personal  attendant  of 
his.  My  father,  whose  only  amusements  were 
buffooneries,  said  gravely — 

'"There  is  no  joy  like  those  of  culture,  and  no 
gifts  like  those  of  the  mind.  No  prince  can  possess 
them  whose  servants  do  not.' 

"'The  neat  and  apt  turns  of  Abdullah's  speech 
were  a  sufficient  proof  that  he  possessed  these 
qualities.  But  my  father  did  not  recognise  them. 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  57 

My  brother  asked  permission  to  try  Abdullah,  who 
stood  by  indifferently.  It  was  granted  to  him,  and 
he  took  down  a  lute  from  the  walls.  He  strung 
it  to  the  proper  pitch,  and  touched  a  few  chords 
reflectively.  Then  lifting  up  the  clear  and  sweet 
voice  of  youth  he  sang — 

"  What  time  the  sun's  long  midday  heat 

With  fire  loads  the  air, 
When  you,  o'er  floors  of  syenite, 

In  languor  shall  repair 
To  where,  within  the  palace  halls, 

A  pool  of  water  fresh 
Catches  the  dancing  shafts  of  light 

Within  a  trembling  mesh, 
And  then  from  ivory  shoulders  smooth 

Your  silken  robe  shall  slip, 
And  in  the  bath's  transparency 

Your  glowing  body  dip, 
The  waters  that  with  murmurs  soft 

In  glittering  columns  rise 
And  fall  in  showers,  sparkle  less 

Than  the  light  of  your  eyes." 

"'When  he  had  ceased  he  handed  the  lute  to 
Abdullah  without  a  word,  who  understood  the 
mute  challenge  and  sat  down.  Changing  the 
pitch  of  the  lute,  without  hesitation,  he  sang  this 
answer — 

"  What  time  the  nightingale's  high  song 

In  fainting  sobs  shall  die 
Drunk  with  the  wines  that  in  the  cup 

Of  clustered  lilies  lie, 
When  faint  with  pleasures  of  the  day, 

Your  limbs  with  dancing  weak, 
The  sombre  groves  of  cypress  sad 

With  languid  eyes  you  seek, 


58  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

To  make  in  the  warm  summer  air 

Your  secret,  scented  bed 
Of  leaves  and  heaped  jasmine  flowers, 

By  lilac  odours  led, 
A  butterfly  upon  your  breast 

Its  golden  wings  shall  close, 
Thinking  that  in  the  night  it  tastes 

The  petals  of  a  rose." 

" l  His  voice  had  a  warm  and  ringing  note. 
Though  my  brother's  invention  was  melodious 
and  easy,  it  had  been  easily  surpassed  by  Abdullah's 
choice  of  phrase  and  music ;  and  this  to  my  father 
was  a  proof  of  utmost  eminence.  He  was  again 
pressed  for  his  permission.  He  answered,  stroking 
the  grey  beard  that  ran  round  his  jovial  face — 

"'Our  prophet  Mohammed  (on  him  be  peace 
and  prayer)  says  deliberation  is  the  assistant  of 
counsel ;  therefore  let  a  night,  as  well  as  a  day, 
pass  over  thy  resolution.' 

" '  We  knew  this  postponement  only  concealed  a 
surrender.  His  opposition  to  my  brother's  wishes 
was  ever  formal,  and  his  final  consent  always 
certain.  The  next  day  Abdullah  was  attached  to 
our  persons.'" 

At  that  moment  we  heard  the  crunch  of  gravel, 
and  Reinhold  interrupted  his  reading.  Three 
horses  appeared  in  file  lolling  round  the  corner 
of  the  ranch,  wearing  their  usual  air  of  jaded 
indifference.  They  had  come  to  drink,  and  we 
stopped  to  watch  the  kindly  beasts  dip  their 
nostrils  in  the  cool  stream.  They  lounged  off 
again,  elaborately  careless,  but  with  an  eye  upon 
us,  and  Reinhold  resumed  his  reading — 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  59 

"'We  were  fascinated  by  his  company.  His 
life  had  been  compact  of  experience  and  adven- 
tures, and  he  overflowed  with  stories  of  them. 
Our  thirst  for  information  about  the  great  world 
beyond  our  mountains  was  insatiable,  and  Abdullah 
liked  to  hear  the  sound  of  his  own  voice.  His 
repertoire  of  Arab  poetry  was  inexhaustible,  and 
he  had  great  powers  of  improvisation.  We  were 
impressionable,  and  at  an  age  when  one  is  easily 
swayed.  He  was  grown,  accomplished,  lively,  and 
experienced,  and  he  soon  became  our  leader  rather 
than  our  follower.  We  took  to  quoting  his  ideas 
and  using  his  words.  He  also  excelled  in  sports; 
in  those  which  were  matters  of  dexterity  and  grace, 
my  brother  could  equal  him.  But  he  was  first 
when  endurance  and  determination  were  required. 
This  completed  his  ascendency  over  us. 

" '  He  was  born  in  Egypt,  and  had  the  short  and 
powerful  build  of  its  inhabitants.  But  he  had 
drifted  all  over  the  world  of  Islam.  At  Stamboul 
he  had  lived  among  Christians,  and  learnt  many  of 
their  arts,  among  them  that  of  using  the  sun  to  draw 
pictures.  It  is  possible  also  that  he  had  exchanged 
his  religion  for  theirs,  and  learnt  to  adore  three 
gods  instead  of  one  ;  but  he  naturally  concealed 
his  apostasy.  He  had  certainly  contracted  their 
appetite  for  wealth.  Like  them,  he  thought  a  man 
should  spend  the  chief  hours  of  his  life  in  acquiring 
it,  and  he  despised  our  race  because  they  would 
not  inflict  on  themselves  that  voluntary  misery. 
We  were  boys  who  do  not  examine  and  pronounce 
verdicts  on  their  companions ;  or  else  we  would 


60  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

have  become  aware  of  the  man's  secret  ambition, 
and  judged  him  by  it.  His  desire  was  for  large 
and  sudden  wealth  ;  this  had  directed  his  erratic 
life,  and  if  we  had  been  observant,  his  favourite 
topics  would  have  revealed  it.  They  were  buried 
treasures,  and  sudden  fortune  and  strokes  of  luck, 
and  his  account  was,  he  had  several  times  almost 
caught  the  tide  of  fortune,  but  always  missed  it. 
He  grew  bitter  in  the  recital  of  his  misfortunes. 

"  '  Chance  had  not  floated  him  here.  We  did  not 
detect  his  object,  but  it  became  plain  on  retrospect. 
The  treasures  that  lie  in  that  old  palace  opposite, 
and  the  fire  Afreets  who  guard  them,  furnish  all  the 
stories  of  the  country.  Most  people  have  seen  these 
Afreets  in  the  shape  of  a  wrinkled  old  woman,  or  a 
huge  and  hideous  negro,  or  preferably  in  a  column 
of  smoke.  If  you  stay  here  long  enough  you  will 
no  doubt  see  one  yourself.  It  was  these  reports 
that  had  drawn  Abdullah  here,  and  our  becoming 
his  intimates  assisted  his  scheme.  He  no  doubt 
took  full  advantage  of  his  new  importance,  and  his 
plan  was  to  involve  us,  for  our  complicity  would 
have  protected  him  from  punishment.  He  derided 
the  accounts  of  fire  Afreets  and  their  vengeance, 
and  flashed  prospects  of  gold  and  jewels  before  us. 
He  hinted  at  an  expedition  into  the  old  palace. 

"'We  resisted  his  suggestions  with  the  tacit 
opposition  of  boys,  and  he  was  too  astute  to  press 
us,  or  to  expose  himself  to  an  open  refusal.  He 
appeared  to  drop  the  idea,  and  reverted  to  being 
the  entertaining  and  interesting  companion  he  was 
before.  One  day  that  we  were  coming  back  here, 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  61 

we  took  an  intricate  road  through  the  old  palace, 
unknown  to  us  before.  The  sequel  showed  this 
was  not  fortuitous,  and  that  Abdullah  had  resolved 
to  do  by  surprise  what  he  could  not  do  by  persua- 
sion. We  were  unsuspicious.  The  tall  thick  walls 
of  the  palace  ran  along  both  sides  of  the  road. 
That  afternoon  we  had  been  in  the  mood  of 
challenges,  and  Abdullah  had  been  defying  us  to 
feats  of  strength  and  skill.  We  had  vanquished 
him  and  were  in  a  high  state  of  confidence.  Sud- 
denly we  came  to  a  low,  narrow  opening  in  the 
wall.  Steps  leading  downward  disappeared  into 
the  darkness.  We  stopped  to  look  at  it,  and 
immediately  Abdullah  cried — 

" '  I  challenge  you  to  go  down  these  steps.' 
"'My  brother  without  hesitation  went  down 
them.  But  he  had  not  descended  more  than  two 
or  three  when  he  returned  back  to  the  daylight. 
Abdullah,  without  giving  him  time  for  reflection, 
ran  down  them  himself.  My  brother  followed,  and 
I  went  after  them  both. 

"  '  At  the  bottom  there  was  a  floor  of  hard  earth. 
Only  a  faint  light  reached  us,  and  our  surroundings 
were  invisible.  The  air  was  sweet,  though  there 
was  a  dampness  in  it,  and  cobwebs,  ancient  and 
voluminous,  tangled  themselves  round  our  heads. 
Abdullah  lighted  a  small  metal  box  he  had  pro- 
duced from  the  folds  of  his  clothes.  Its  glow  was 
small,  and  as  Abdullah  held  it  in  close  to  his  bosom 
to  shield  it  from  a  chance  current  of  air,  it  barely 
served  to  show  us  his  position.  We  moved  on, 
groping  and  uncertain.  The  vault  in  which  we 


62  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

were  seemed  high  and  was  certainly  large.  At 
last  Abdullah's  outstretched  hand  found  the  wall. 
This  guided  him  a  certain  distance,  then  suddenly 
his  lamp  was  blown  out. 

"'But  it  was  only  because  he  had  reached  an 
opening  in  the  wall,  the  draught  of  which  was 
fatal  to  his  small  light.  He  stepped  through  the 
opening  with  excessive  caution.  It  was  another 
large  vault,  and  in  the  same  fashion  we  crossed  a 
succession  of  them.  I  was  entranced  with  fear. 
My  senses  were  bound  and  incapable  of  indepen- 
dent action.  Only  shame  kept  me  close  to  my 
brother.  But  all  my  faculties  were  stunned,  and 
my  impression  of  all  the  remaining  events  is  vague 
and  confused. 

" '  Our  advance  continued  for  a  time  that  seemed 
interminable.  At  last  we  found  ourselves  in  a  vault 
strewn  with  mounds  of  pebbles.  Our  feet  sank  in 
the  crumbling  heap  without  being  able  to  touch 
the  floor.  Abdullah  turned  to  us  and  said  in  a 
rapid  tense  whisper,  "  Rubies  ! "  and  at  the  same 
time  fell  on  his  knees  and  filled  one  of  the  large 
folds  of  his  dress  with  them.  We  mechanically  did 
the  same.  Abdullah  did  not  wait  for  us,  or  take 
any  notice  of  our  presence,  but  hurried  away  as 
soon  as  he  was  ready.  We  followed,  for  he  had 
the  lamp.  But  we  had  not  gone  more  than  a  few 
steps  before  my  brother  clutched  my  arm  and 
said — 

" '  I  am  not  going  to  steal  these/ 

" '  He  loosed  the  fold  of  his  gown  and  I  heard 
the  load  of  precious  stones  rattle  to  the  ground.  I 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  63 

imitated  him.  Abdullah  still  shuffled  hurriedly 
before  us.  As  he  tumbled  up  the  narrow  stairs 
of  the  vault,  and  had  almost  reached  the  light,  a 
pigeon  flew  in  and  struck  him  in  the  face.  He 
staggered  ;  it  winged  its  way  past  us  and  vanished 
into  the  darkness. 

"'  Abdullah  disappeared  for  a  few  days.  We 
thought  he  had  fled  with  his  treasure  to  the  Euro- 
pean settlements  of  the  coast,  for  if  discovery 
threatened  even  us  with  blows  and  displeasures,  it 
would  have  involved  death  and  fearful  agony  to 
him.  A  suspicion  of  the  theft  would  have  worked 
my  father  into  a  frenzy  of  rage.  He  would  have 
considered  the  provocation  to  the  invisible  inhabit- 
ants of  the  palace  sufficient  to  ruin  himself,  his 
family,  and  his  kingdom.  Besides,  only  Europeans 
can  treat  rough  stones  and  give  them  their  proper 
lustre.  Our  polishers  are  unskilful  workmen,  and 
in  their  hands  they  remain  unshapely,  their  beauty 
dulled  and  obscured.  Yours  can  endow  them  with 
symmetry  and  brilliance,  and  their  rubies  are  like 
beauties  unveiled. 

"'Abdullah  resumed  his  duties,  but  his  loquacity 
and  lively  spirit  had  left  him.  He  moved  about, 
silent  and  preoccupied,  or  sat  staring  in  front  of 
himself  with  a  fixed  melancholy  expression. 

"'At  first  we  thought  him  absorbed  in  some 
scheme  for  running  away ;  or  that  he  had  drawn 
a  curse  upon  himself  and  would  pine  away.  But 
his  cheeks  remained  full,  retaining  their  whole- 
some colour,  and  he  moved  about  with  a  robust, 
muscular  step.  Only  his  eye  had  the  tense  and 


64  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

distant  look  of  a  man  who  is  preyed  upon  by  some 
secret  passion. 

'"One  morning,  passing  by  his  room,  I  noticed 
a  lamp  burning  in  it,  with  the  pale  and  sickly 
beam  it  has  in  the  broad  light  of  day.  My  brother 
laughed  at  me  when  I  told  him,  and  I  thought  my- 
self mistaken.  That  day  Abdullah  scarcely  spoke 
a  word  and  the  sadness  of  his  face  was  painful. 
My  brother,  who  was  humane,  spoke  to  me  about 
it,  although  he  avoided  referring  to  our  subter- 
ranean adventure,  and  that  evening,  with  the  evi- 
dent intention  of  cheering  him,  he  took  down  his 
lute  and  sang  one  of  his  favourite  songs — 

"  By  your  walk  I  am  enchanted, 
Each  gliding  foot  so  lightly  planted. 
A  pitcher  tall  of  crystal  clear 
Your  poised  head  might  firmly  bear. 
The  pitcher's  smooth  and  rounded  swell 
Would  match  your  lovely  bosom  well. 
The  lights  that  in  the  crystal  dance 
Would  not  outshine  your  sparkling  glance." 

"'We  expected  him  to  improvise  some  novel 
and  enchanting  answer ;  but  he  took  the  lute 
and  sang  in  response — 

"  To  enter  only  I  aspire 
The  golden  palaces  of  fire, 
Where  staircase  and  where  portico 
With  molten  liquid  brightness  glow, 
And  where  the  soft  delicious  heat 
Will  on  delighted  senses  beat. 
One  day  I  will  seek  out  that  place, 
And  the  fair  spirits  of  that  race." 


a  t 


This  was  the  first  extended   speech  we  had 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  65 

heard  from  him  since  his  reappearance.  We  were 
startled  by  the  wild  ideas  it  contained,  which  were 
almost  unintelligible  to  us.  At  that  moment  my 
brother  and  I  were  sitting  on  a  rug  on  one  side  of 
the  room  ;  Abdullah  sat  on  the  other  side  and 
between  us  hung  the  lamp,  the  unsteady  light 
of  which  fell  on  Abdullah's  face.  His  eyes  were 
fixed  on  the  flame  with  the  same  radiant  pleasure 
that  a  lover  looks  upon  his  mistress.  He  did  not 
notice  us,  but  continued  to  gaze  into  the  flame, 
which  communicated  to  him  its  emotions.  For 
when  it  flickered  and  fell,  a  look  of  concern  came 
into  his  face;  and  its  steady,  even  burning  was 
reflected  in  his  calm  joy. 

"'The  next  morning  I  again  noticed  a  lamp 
burning  in  Abdullah's  room,  although  the  sun 
was  high.  To  refute  my  brother  who  had  laughed 
at  my  report  I  ran  and  fetched  him.  He  came, 
and  on  seeing  it  strode  straight  to  the  window. 
Inside  sat  Abdullah ;  the  small  metal  lamp  he 
carried  was  lighted  and  in  his  hand.  He  was 
toying  with  it  and  admiring  it  as  a  connoisseur 
might  some  gem.  Sometimes  he  let  the  tiny 
flame  burn  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand :  some- 
times he  ran  his  fingers  through  it  and  closed 
his  eyes  in  delight.  We  noticed  his  hands  were 
red  with  burns,  and  his  fingers  purple  and  almost 
skinless.  Though  my  brother  made  no  conceal- 
ment of  his  presence  at  the  window,  for  he  dis- 
dained spying,  Abdullah  remained  undisturbed  by 
our  presence. 

tl  *  This  taste  for  fire  was  not  occasional ;  it  had 

E 


66  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

mastered  Abdullah,  and  he  lived  to  satisfy  it.  The 
autumn  mornings  were  now  chill,  and,  as  usual, 
small  iron  brasiers,  full  of  live  coal,  glowed  every- 
where in  the  courts.  Abdullah  never  left  them. 
He  spent  his  days  sitting  and  lolling  by  them. 
Close  to  them,  or  any  other  flame,  he  was  calm 
and  satisfied  ;  but  if  occasion  called  him  away  he 
sank  back  into  his  mute  dejection.  Otherwise, 
there  was  nothing  strange  in  his  behaviour,  and 
it  was  not  remarked.  But  his  passion  for  that 
element  was  watched  by  us  two,  who  knew  the 
offence  he  had  committed  against  the  fire  Afreets. 
We  watched  with  great  alarm,  but  dared  not  speak 
or  act.  We  had  already  risked  their  anger,  and 
the  vengeance  they  were  taking  on  Abdullah  made 
them  still  more  dreadful  to  us. 

" '  But  their  vindictiveness  against  him  was  not 
exhausted,  and  they  exacted  the  full  penalty.  One 
day  Abdullah  was  in  the  crowd  that  had  gathered 
in  the  great  court.  He  was  squatting  on  his  heels, 
leaning  over  one  of  the  many  brasiers  that  warmed 
it.  His  neighbours  thought  he  usurped  more  than 
his  share  of  it,  and  one  of  them  tried  to  push  him 
over.  Another  said — 

'"  The  fire  Afreets  have  concealed  rubies  in  the 
brasier ;  Abdullah  has  seen  them  and  is  going  to 
be  a  rich  man.1 

lt  l  All  eyes  were  turned  upon  Abdullah  ;  he  gave 
no  answer  but  smiled  to  himself.  Then  suddenly 
he  seized  the  brasier  with  both  hands  and  put 
it  on  his  head  like  a  hat.  There  was  a  smell  of 
burning  flesh  and  the  red  coals  fell  around  him. 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  67 

A  look  of  exquisite  pleasure  and  satisfaction  came 
over  his  face  and  he  rolled  on  his  side,  dead.' 

"The  Sultan  stopped  speaking  and  appeared 
buried  in  thought.  As  he  prided  himself  as  a  teller 
of  stories,  I  knew  the  conclusion  was  a  moment 
of  great  complacency.  I  therefore  seized  the 
opportunity  to  bring  forward  a  piece  of  business. 
His  fancy  had  been  caught  by  the  idea  of  bicycles 
and  motor  cars,  and  on  my  mentioning  the  subject 
to  him  on  this  well-chosen  occasion,  he  told  me  he 
preferred  a  motor  car.  I  informed  him  that  as  a 
wholesale  firm  I  could  only  deal  in  dozens,  or  at 
least  in  half-dozens,  and  he  answered  with  in- 
difference that  he  would  then  take  half-a-dozen. 
I  booked  the  order  ;  though  for  the  time  being 
their  value  to  him  would  be  small,  as  there  were 
no  roads  in  his  country,  yet  the  cars  would  no 
doubt  be  useful  as  soon  as  roads  were  built." 

Reinhold  had  read  his  story  with  his  usual  com- 
placency, and  long  before  the  end  of  it  I  had  been 
fretting  to  get  away.  The  foreman  had  asked  me 
to  go  and  help  him  with  the  colts,  and  the  corral 
to  which  he  was  to  drive  them  was  some  way  down 
the  canyons.  I  asked  Belphoebe  if  she  cared  to 
accompany  me,  but  she  shook  her  head  in  negation. 
Her  feelings,  I  knew,  were  always  shocked  by  the 
brutality  necessarily  practised  on  the  half-wild 
animals  of  a  ranch.  Her  consideration  was  too 
great  to  allow  her  to  express  her  aversion  to  it, 
but  I  knew  it  detracted  from  the  pleasure  of 
her  visit.  It  almost  outweighed  the  enjoyment 
given  to  her  there  by  the  familiar  life  with  the 


68  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

animals  of  a  ranch,  between  whom  and  you  no 
servants  or  grooms  intervene.  In  that  intimacy 
their  characters  acquired  regular  features,  distinct 
and  quaint.  I  did  not  expect  her  to  accompany 
me  to  see  the  colts  caught  and  branded. 

I  was  about  to  start  when  both  she  and  I  caught 
sight  of  a  white  donkey,  Jack,  who  had  followed 
his  friends  the  horses  down,  and  now  lay  couched 
on  a  dry  place  near  them,  outside  the  corral.  He 
had  once  been  regularly  employed  to  carry  a  pack, 
many  years  before,  in  the  company  of  these  large 
creatures,  and  had  acquired  a  taste  for  their 
company :  he  rather  cut  his  own  people  in  the 
pasture.  He  was  now  a  pensioner  on  the  ranch 
where  he  had  been  a  servant  as  far  back  as  any- 
body could  remember.  Occasionally  descending 
from  the  thickets,  where  he  spent  his  declining 
years,  he  would  sometimes  be  found  outside  the 
house,  staring  at  it,  with  his  spreading  ears,  whose 
large  proportions  proclaimed  his  high-bred  donkey 
blood,  standing  upright ;  he  would  remain  thus  in 
silent  speculation,  surprised,  no  doubt,  that  the  in- 
trusion of  man  should  still  continue.  The  natural 
contempt  of  all  donkeys  for  the  animal  man  was 
heightened  in  his  case  by  the  aristocracy  of  his 
family. 

He  was  a  favourite  with  Belphcebe,  who  ran 
down  the  steps  of  the  veranda  to  him  with  a  cry 
of  delight,  and  sat  on  him  as  if  he  had  been  a  long 
white  stool.  Jack  was  in  evident  perplexity.  Being 
used  as  a  stool  was  completely  novel,  and  justified 
sudden  flight  and  a  careful  examination  of  the 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  69 

whole  affair  from  a  distance.  On  the  other  hand 
he  had  never  received  anything  from  Belphcebe 
but  caresses,  and  bits  of  stale  bread,  handfuls  of 
corn,  and  other  toothsome  delicacies.  So  he  lay 
in  his  place ;  but  his  sail-broad  ears  stood  upright 
to  the  skies.  Whether  they  were  meant  to  invoke 
the  aid  of  heaven,  or  whether  their  position  assisted 
the  process  of  reflection,  was  uncertain. 

We  left  him  to  watch  the  pecking,  gobbling  herd 
of  chickens  whom  Reinhold  had  been  ordered  by 
the  foreman,  in  a  way  as  imperious  as  his  own,  to 
feed.  He  was  throwing  corn  to  them,  and  we  went 
to  watch  that  regular  scene  of  greed  and  voracity. 
Chickens  are  most  disagreeable,  if  useful,  friends 
to  live  with  ;  most  indelicate,  inquisitive,  imperti- 
nent, omnipresent  people,  unlike  most  animals, 
who  suffer  from  shyness  ;  fat,  greasy  citizens,  with 
their  portly,  complacent  strut,  and  their  screaming 
flurry  and  cowardice  if  their  feathers  are  touched. 
I  had  a  special  prejudice  against  them  as  the  only 
beasts  who  have  ever  gone  nearly  killing  me.  I 
used  to  look  for  chickens'  eggs  about  the  ranch. 
As  they  used  to  lay  everywhere,  I  used  to  look 
everywhere.  Now  dynamite  is  always  kept  on 
a  ranch  to  clear  rocks  and  big  trees  out  of  the 
road,  but  I  did  not  know  this.  I  was  once  crawling 
under  the  ranch,  which  was  built  on  a  slope,  on  all 
fours,  with  a  lighted  match  to  find  a  nest  I  thought 
was  there,  amid  piles  of  boxes  and  bags.  In  one 
box  I  noticed  long  round  pieces  of  sticky,  yellow 
stuff,  and  wondered  what  they  were.  Taking  one 
in  my  hand,  I  was  just  going  to  put  a  match  to  it, 


70  A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

thinking  it  might  make  a  good  torch,  when  I  looked 
at  the  end  of  the  box  and  saw  it  was  labelled 
"dynamite."  I  blew  out  the  match  and  crawled 
out  with  my  hair  standing  on  end. 

After  watching  this  scene  I  left  Reinhold  and 
Belphoebe  and  walked  about  a  mile  down  a  canyon 
to  a  corral  into  which  the  foreman  and  the  cow- 
puncher  had  driven  a  whole  troop  of  horses  who 
now  stood  startled,  watching.  The  two  men  had 
just  dismounted  outside,  throwing  their  long  reins 
to  the  ground.  Their  ponies  remained  standing  as 
if  they  had  been  tied. 

Outside  the  corral  we  made  a  small  fire  ;  first  we 
found  a  piece  of  resinous  pitchpine,  and,  paring  a 
few  shavings,  lighted  them.  Carefully  cherishing 
these  feeble  flames,  we  fed  them  cautiously  till  they 
had  grown  into  a  full  fire.  The  branding-irons 
which,  pastorally  hooked,  hung  from  the  cow- 
punchers'  saddles,  were  drawn  from  their  cases, 
and  thrust  into  the  fire  to  get  hot. 

Then  we  climbed  into  the  corral  and  stood  in  the 
middle  of  it.  The  whole  crowd  of  wild  mares  and 
horses,  panic-stricken,  went  charging  round  and 
round  it,  splashing  and  trampling.  Some  slipped 
and  crashed  down  in  the  mud,  and  were  hardly 
able  to  struggle  to  their  feet  in  the  press  of  flying 
hoofs.  The  callow  little  colts,  the  object  of  the 
expedition,  pressed  in  terror  after  their  mothers. 
The  two  cowpunchers  stood  in  the  middle  of  the 
ring,  with  their  ropes  loose  in  their  hands  and 
ready ;  they  were  going  to  perform  a  difficult  feat 
of  roping,  to  "  forefoot "  them. 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  71 

One  of  the  two  colts,  trotting  with  sprightly 
grace,  was  clear  for  a  moment  of  the  crowd.  In- 
stantly the  foreman's  rope,  thrown  under  hand, 
flew  out  in  front  of  him.  But  it  just  missed,  and 
the  open  noose  lay  on  the  ground  ;  the  colt  stepped 
gaily  over  it.  He  threw  again  and  missed  again. 
He  said — 

"The  son  of  a  gun!  he  is  not  going  fast 
enough  ! " 

He  had  miscalculated  the  pace  of  the  little 
creature.  The  second  cowpuncher  now  had  a 
throw,  jerking  his  loop  out :  the  colt  appeared  to 
place  his  forefeet  through  it.  Instantly  on  feeling 
the  rope  he  started  to  fly,  and  the  cowpuncher 
threw  his  own  weight  on  his  end  of  it.  As  the 
rope  tightened  on  his  forelegs  the  colt  struggled 
in  fright,  threw  up  his  head,  then  fell.  He  rose 
again,  and  plunged,  and  kicked,  and  whinnied 
piercingly.  When  he  fell  again,  we  flung  our- 
selves upon  him  impetuously.  I  knelt  upon  his 
neck  and  the  foreman  dropped  with  a  knee  on 
his  flank,  and  passed  his  tail  under  his  kicking 
back  leg,  thus  paralysing  it.  The  second  cow- 
puncher rapidly  interlaced  a  rope  among  his  feet 
and  tied  them  together.  The  little  creature  lay 
there  helpless.  After  a  few  convulsions  he  admitted 
he  was  overcome,  and  lay  without  a  movement. 

The  hot  iron  was  applied  to  his  hip  and  a 
Diamond  and  Heart  was  branded  on  it.  Even 
when  his  feet  were  released  he  was  so  subdued 
that  he  continued  lying  on  the  ground,  and  then 
slowly  rejoined  his  mother;  she  licked  the  new 


72  A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

marks  of  her  long  -  legged  offspring.  Then  we 
pulled  the  heavy  bars  of  the  gate  aside,  and  let 
the  crowd  of  nervous  creatures  free  again. 

The  other  two  had  horses  to  carry  them  back, 
but  one  of  them  offered  to  carry  me  behind  him  ; 
I  preferred  to  walk  back  under  the  bare  wintry 
branches  of  the  high  cotton-wood  trees. 


CHAPTER   IV 

"  The  Winds  have  broken  loose  at  length, 
And  in  fierce  charges  spend  their  strength. 

The  hills  along, 

A  wild  headlong 

Rush  they  make. 

Heath  and  tall  grass, 

As  the  Winds  pass, 

Bend  and  quake. 

The  saplings  slender, 

Young  and  tender, 

Crashing  break. 

The  leaves,  aghast 

At  the  fierce  blast, 

Fleeing  shake. 

A  moment  on  the  lengthy  crest 
Of  the  heights  they  rein  and  rest ; 
For  underneath  them  spreads  the  sleeping  vale, 
And  its  long  fields,  and  woods,  and  waters  pale, 
And  hills  that  in  the  distance  melt  and  fail. 

Their  heads  again 

They  proudly  lift, 

Their  eager  feet 

Impatient  shift : 

Then  over  the  smooth  and  the  infinite  plains, 
They  gallop  off,  shaking  their  long  tangled  manes." 

THE  ranchman,  like  any  other  cattle-breeder,  keeps 
constantly  at  work  on  his  farm,  with  his  men,  to 
tend  his  beasts.  He  must  brand  the  new  calves 
before  some  interloper  puts  his  brand  on  them. 

73 


74  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

He  must  doctor  the  sick,  especially  in  the  plains 
which,  unlike  the  wholesome  mountains,  are  in- 
fested with  devouring  parasites.  For  the  homeless 
kine  cannot  be  treated  as  completely  wild,  and 
cannot  dispense  with  some  care  and  tendance  from 
their  owner.  He  must  keep  his  own  cattle  as  much 
as  he  can  within  his  own  range,  and  keep  other 
brands  from  feeding  off  it,  for  he  has  an  interest, 
if  not  a  property,  in  the  precious  grass.  He  must 
keep  his  horses  within  the  range  too,  for,  though 
they  are  allowed  to  wander  loose,  he  must  try  and 
have  them  more  or  less  at  hand.  The  range  of 
the  Diamond  Heart's,  which  is  a  small  ranch,  was 
about  ten  miles  from  end  to  end,  cut  by  canyons 
and  covered  by  woods.  Such  a  farmer  cannot 
leave  his  farm-house  on  foot  of  a  morning,  and 
return  there  of  an  evening.  He  must  ride  on 
horseback,  and  have  a  movable  farm-house.  So 
a  cowman's  life  is  in  camp  and  with  horses.  In- 
cessantly, from  the  spring  to  the  autumn,  the  camp 
shifts  from  place  to  place  in  the  range.  It  is  a 
most  mobile  body,  and  its  equipment  the  most 
portable  and  simple  possible.  Saddle,  rope,  re- 
volver, and  sometimes  Winchester,  you  carry  on 
your  own  horse.  Your  spare  horses,  your  "  mount," 
six  or  seven  in  number  in  the  mountains,  are  driven 
in  a  great  troop,  the  "remuda."  Your  bed,  a  pile 
of  blankets  in  a  tarpaulin,  is  transported  from 
camp  to  camp,  lashed  to  the  back  of  a  horse  or 
a  mule ;  perhaps,  if  you  are  luxurious,  you  shove 
a  few  pieces  of  under -linen  and  some  shaving 
tackle  into  it.  A  small  iron  oven,  a  frying-pan,  a 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  75 

boiling-pot,  a  small  axe,  a  sack  of  flour,  salt,  sugar, 
coffee,  molasses,  baking  -  powder,  matches,  and 
shoeing  tackle,  are  put  in  panniers  on  the  back 
of  a  mule.  This  is  a  "pack  outfit,"  such  as  is 
used  in  the  mountains,  and  it  can  be  contracted 
to  the  use  of  two  or  expanded  to  the  use  of  twenty 
men.  It  is  the  most  rapid  of  establishments,  and 
can  cover  many  miles  in  a  day.  It  can  disappear 
in  half-an-hour  from  a  spot,  leaving  no  other  traces 
but  the  grey  ashes  of  its  fire.  It  is  the  most 
agile  and  manageable  of  bodies,  as  our  soldiers 
with  their  clumsy  waggon  convoys  knew  when 
they  were  confronted  by  the  elusive  Boer  using 
pack  trains.  It  can  get  across  country  of  appa- 
rently insuperable  roughness,  almost  as  straight 
as  the  crow  flies.  The  walls  of  the  canyon  are 
deep  and  sheer;  but  somewhere  or  other  the  cattle 
have  found  a  way  down  to  drink  at  the  stream  at 
their  base.  Down  this  trail  mules  and  horses, 
skirting  ridges  and  precipices,  clamber  in  single 
file,  a  long  train. 

It  is  only  in  the  winter  that  the  "  work,"  as  this 
moving  body  is  emphatically  called,  is  not  out. 
There  are  usually  two  crops  to  be  raised  a  year. 
The  harvest  of  steers,  of  marketable  bullocks,  one, 
two,  or  three  years  old,  is  gathered  in  the  spring 
as  soon  as  the  weather  is  fair  enough  for  con- 
tinuous riding,  and  again  in  the  autumn  before 
rain  and  snow  confine  the  men  to  the  wooden 
ranch-house.  During  the  interval,  the  height  of 
summer,  the  round-up  is  out  to  brand  the  new- 
born calves,  produced  by  the  heifers  who  are  left 


76  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

to  increase  the  capital  stock  of  the  ranch.  To  find 
the  inhabitants  of  a  ranch  at  most  times,  you  must 
search  the  endless  woods  of  pine  till  you  come  to 
the  thin  blue  smoke  slowly  curling  from  the  ex- 
tinguished fire,  the  beds  flung  on  the  ground,  and 
the  little  heaps  of  rough  saddlery.  From  that 
centre  the  foreman  is  making  drives  over  the  whole 
neighbouring  country  to  sweep  it  clean  of  its  cattle, 
and  do  whatever  he  needs  with  the  bag.  He  was 
away  at  dawn,  and  will  not  be  back  with  the  cow- 
punchers  till  nightfall. 

The  sight  of  a  mountain  ranch  is  welcome  after  a 
long  ride  through  the  lonely  woods.  It  lies  where 
the  canyon  opens  out  into  a  level  space,  by  its 
green  field,  ingeniously  irrigated  from  the  small 
creek.  It  consists  only  of  a  large,  long  house  of 
one  or  two  storeys,  a  barn,  a  little  stable,  a  tool- 
house,  and  a  good  number  of  corrals.  Even  this 
rudimentary  habitation  is  rarely  occupied  but  by  the 
"granger,"  a  farming  lad,  and  it  remains  nothing 
more  than  a  headquarters  for  the  cowpunchers  and 
a  storehouse  of  necessaries — food  and  horse-shoes 
— where  their  camp,  perpetually  in  motion,  occa- 
sionally halts  ;  even  on  these  occasions  they  prefer 
to  sleep  outside  it.  A  wide  stretch  of  enclosed  land 
surrounds  the  ranch,  known  as  the  "  pasture."  It 
is  the  stable  where  troops  of  horses  nearly  always 
wander.  Inside  the  pasture  itself,  and  next  to  the 
ranch,  is  a  small  field,  artfully  irrigated,  where  hay 
is  grown  out  of  alfalfa  or  some  other  rich  and 
abundant  grass :  it  is  a  valuable  crop,  carefully 
hoarded  for  the  winter,  when  one  or  two  horses 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  77 

are  kept  up  and  fed  on  it.  In  some  places  a  crop 
of  Indian  corn  is  also  raised.  A  mule  or  a  horse  is 
always  at  hand  or  detained  in  the  tiny  stable  :  if 
you  want  a  particular  horse  in  the  pasture  you  get 
on  this  mount  and  "  wrangle  "  him,  often  a  search 
of  hours.  This  is  the  ranch  in  its  natural  form. 
It  can  be,  and  some  are,  elevated  by  their  owners 
to  the  rank  of  a  country  house.  But  most  remain 
at  this  rude  stage. 

In  this  domain  the  foreman  is  master,  with 
absolute  power  to  "  hire  or  to  fire,"  to  engage 
or  dismiss  the  hands,  and  even  the  absentee  capi- 
talists, in  whose  hands  ranches  so  often  are,  bow 
to  his  authority  when  they  are  on  it.  To  this 
absolute  discretion  is  joined  absolute  responsibility. 
The  position  requires  some  talent  for  management 
and  the  accomplishments  of  a  good  cowman  to  fill 
it.  A  good  cowman  has  fine  horsemanship  and 
skill  with  the  rope,  of  course,  but  more  than  any- 
thing else,  knowledge  of  cattle.  This  science,  to 
which  riding  and  roping  are  very  subordinate,  is 
slowly  deposited  by  many  experiences  till  it  forms 
an  instinct.  He  judges  the  number  of  the  cattle  on 
his  range,  and  how  many  steers  the  owners  can 
contract  to  deliver  to  the  cattle-buyers  :  he  esti- 
mates at  a  glance  their  condition,  their  quality, 
and  their  temper,  either  singly  or  in  masses.  He 
has  a  fine  eye,  and  can  read  at  a  glance  the  sex, 
the  age,  the  brands  of  a  bunch  of  cattle  browsing 
half-hidden  in  the  brakes  of  a  remote  bluff  or 
wrapped  in  whirling  clouds  of  dust.  Once  seen, 
a  cow  is  usually  remembered  by  him  and  recog- 


78  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

nised  in  a  multitude  :  and  a  good  look  at  a  horse 
fixes  him  in  his  memory  for  ever.  He  can  detect 
their  hidden  presence  and  divine  their  future  move- 
ments :  give  him  the  poorest  mount  in  the  outfit, 
and  he  will  bring  back  the  most  steers.  He  has 
an  immediate  grasp  of  a  country,  and  of  the 
strategy  of  rounding  it  up.  Besides  this  "range 
work"  round  the  ranch,  he  can  conduct  " trail 
work,"  taking  a  large  herd  many  scores  of  miles 
through  unknown  country,  and  can  choose  the 
best  way,  make  calculations  of  crucial  importance, 
how  to  water  and  how  to  feed  them,  how  far  to 
drive  each  day ;  take  all  the  instant  decisions  and 
the  many  precautions  that  are  required.  Range 
cattle  have  a  psychology.  They  are  not  domestic 
animals ;  they  are  half  game,  and  your  dealings 
with  them  must  have  a  great  deal  of  tact  and  dis- 
cretion. The  cowman  is  something  of  the  hunter 
and  something  of  the  farmer.  To  this  deep  cattle 
lore  he  must  add  a  deeper  horse  lore.  Besides 
being  a  good  cowman,  the  foreman  must  bear 
the  prime  share  of  fatigue  and  risk,  and  retain  his 
prestige  with  his  men  if  he  wishes  to  maintain  his 
real  authority  over  them.  Like  all  those  who  live 
far  from  the  cities  of  men,  he  must  be  versatile, 
ready  to  be  in  a  rough,  clumsy  way,  a  ploughman, 
a  carpenter,  an  ironsmith,  a  blacksmith,  a  builder, 
a  hunter,  an  irrigator,  a  woodman.  Not  that  this 
variety  of  functions  ever  embarrasses  a  cow- 
puncher  :  all  solitude  produces  self-reliance  :  but 
there  seems  to  be  a  particularly  supreme  form  of 
self-confidence  engendered  by  having  stared  at 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  79 

a  cow's  tail  from  boyhood  upwards.  Besides,  a 
foreman  must  be  honest  and  trustworthy  :  it  is  a 
post  of  confidence.  A  good  waggon-boss  can 
consequently  make  something  like  two  hundred 
a  year  clear  wages,  besides  being  boarded  and 
mounted. 

The  round-up,  the  "  work  "  as  it  is  significantly 
called,  does  not  begin  till  the  spring  is  advanced. 
Till  then  storms  of  snow  and  rain  invade  the  moun- 
tains and  the  ground  is  soaked  and  spongy,  too 
heavy  for  riding  on  the  small,  grass-fed  horses,  and 
without  hard  riding  the  cattle  are  inaccessible. 
So  they  remain  undisturbed  in  their  solitudes. 
The  outfit  that  is  compelled  to  go  out  on  a 
round-up  before  the  ground  and  weather  are  dry 
is  indeed  miserable.  Their  poor  horses,  unnour- 
ished  by  the  thin  winter  grass  and  exhausted  with 
their  efforts,  cannot  reach  the  cattle,  or  utterly 
fail  them  and  sink  to  the  ground.  Their  most 
desperate  efforts  yield  no  result,  and  they  never 
get  back  to  camp  till  long  after  nightfall,  often  on 
foot  and  carrying  their  own  saddles.  The  rivers 
are  in  flood  and  at  every  crossing  soak  the  riders 
and  the  mules'  packs.  Fatigued  and  frozen,  they 
have  to  sleep  between  wet  blankets  and  eat  sodden 
food.  Finding  himself  behind  time  and  the  date 
of  delivery  approaching,  the  pitiless  foreman  puts 
on  double  pressure  ;  he  gets  them  up  at  three  in 
the  morning  and  makes  them  saddle  in  the  dark 
by  the  light  of  the  camp-fire,  and  even  the  cook 
has  to  take  to  riding.  Tired  and  cold,  without 
food  or  sleep,  their  best  exertions  fruitless,  not  only 


8o  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

does  the  temper  of  these  rough  men  give  out  but 
they  are  utterly  unmanned,  and  sink  into  their 
blankets  almost  sobbing. 

At  the  end  of  the  autumn  the  larger  portion  of 
the  cowpunchers  are  dismissed  till  the  spring,  and 
fall  back  into  other  occupations,  several  of  which 
each  boasts.  Without  demur  they  become  bar- 
tenders, or  salesmen,  or  gamblers — one  of  the  most 
respected  and  respectable  professions  in  the  West 
— or  butchers.  All  occupations  are  on  the  same 
social  level,  and,  to  a  cowpuncher,  equally  easy. 
They  would  not  hesitate  to  manage  a  bank  or  a 
battleship,  if  it  was  offered  them.  The  foreman  and 
a  few  hands  remain  on  the  ranch  during  winter, 
where  there  is  always  "ground  work,"  as  the 
punchers  contemptuously  call  any  work  that  is  not 
on  horseback,  to  be  done :  making  or  mending 
pastures,  for  example,  large  spaces  of  land  enclosed 
with  barbed  wire,  which  are  scattered  all  over  the 
range  of  a  ranch.  As  they  have  the  water,  and  the 
grass  within  them  is  protected,  they  are  very  con- 
venient if,  for  any  cause,  it  is  required  to  hold 
horses  or  cattle  together  for  some  time.  Corrals, 
again,  are  placed  at  convenient  points  in  the  woods, 
small,  strong  enclosures  of  bars  and  posts,  of  which 
the  uses  are  numerous.  In  the  wet  season  miscel- 
laneous erections  and  rude  constructions  of  this 
kind  are  made,  and  the  tedious  tasks  of  the  farmer 
accomplished,  ploughing  in  the  patch  of  field, 
digging  a  little  in  the  ditches  that  irrigate  the 
precious  meadow.  The  road  that  leads  to  town 
can  always  be  improved,  and  must  always  be  kept 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  81 

open  for  the  heavy  four-mule  waggon.  Road- 
making  in  the  West  is  still  a  rudimentary  science. 
Its  first  principle  is  that,  wherever  it  is  possible  to 
pass  a  vehicle  it  is  possible  to  make  a  road.  Its 
second  is  that,  where  a  vehicle  has  been  passed 
several  times  over  the  same  place,  the  road  is  made. 
The  public  authorities  carry  out  the  public  works  in 
this  simple  fashion,  and  private  individuals  do  not 
do  much  better.  But  in  the  mountains  some  bank- 
ing and  levelling  must  be  done  to  make  it  passable; 
sometimes  a  huge  boulder  rolls  down,  or  a  great 
pine  falls  across  the  road  where  it  is  compressed 
between  the  steep  and  close  sides  of  a  canyon. 
Then  the  cowpunchers  shove  long  sticks  of  yellow 
dynamite  in  their  pockets  to  blow  the  obstacle  up, 
and  gallop  off,  shouting  with  joy  at  the  prospect  of 
the  explosion.  Then  "  freighting "  goes  on  con- 
stantly, driving  the  heavy  waggon  with  a  team  of 
four  mules  to  town  and  back,  a  week's  journey.  It 
is  going  and  coming  nearly  the  whole  year,  especially 
of  a  winter,  to  bring  the  necessaries  of  the  ranch 
out.  Its  chief  loads  are  salt,  the  heavy  rock-salt  the 
cattle  require  in  such  quantities,  and  corn,  the  grain 
that  must  be  used  to  feed  the  horses  employed  of 
a  winter,  all  very  weighty  and  very  bulky  articles. 
The  solitary  freighter  has  difficulties  of  his  own 
to  cope  with.  Often  the  rut-tracks  which  make 
a  Western  road  turn  to  sloughs,  which  tax  the 
patience  and  the  powers  of  objurgation  of  a  pro- 
fessional teamster  ;  often  the  waggon  sinks  so  deep 
that  it  has  to  be  unloaded  and  the  contents  fetched 
by  the  pack  train.  Down  some  precipitous  inclines 

F 


82  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

no  brake  or  team  can  hold  the  laden  waggon,  and 
the  teamster  manufactures  a  natural  and  very  effec- 
tive drag  by  cutting  down  a  small  fir  and  chaining  it 
to  the  axle.  In  all  these  trials  and  other  hardships  of 
winter  weather  the  teamster  is  alone  with  his  mules. 
In  old,  settled  countries  roads  and  bridges  are 
too  common  to  be  appreciated.  They  are  treated 
like  the  gifts  of  nature,  like  the  air  itself,  and  the 
effect  of  their  absence  is  not  realised.  But  they  are 
inventions  almost  divine,  and  without  them  man's 
life  would  have  remained  poor,  brutish,  nasty, 
helpless ;  for  without  roads  and  bridges  he  cannot 
use  a  waggon,  and  without  a  waggon  he  is  un- 
able to  transport  any  objects  from  one  place  to 
another  during  most  of  the  year.  It  would  have 
remained  useless  for  him  to  produce,  and  impossible 
for  him  to  receive  anything  in  exchange,  for  little 
of  bulk  can  be  carried  on  the  backs  of  animals. 
They  are  the  first  condition  of  economic  produc- 
tion. It  is  not  surprising  that  the  Romans,  who 
invented  business  and  laid  down  its  rules  for  all 
eternity,  set  out  to  develop  the  whole  world  with 
their  spades  and  trowels,  and  made  their  bridge- 
makers  into  the  priests  of  their  religion. 

Sometimes  in  winter  a  trap  is  laid  for  a  wolf, 
where  his  tracks,  like  those  of  a  large  mastiff,  have 
been  seen  in  the  snow.  The  skin  of  a  newly- 
killed  beef  is  hung  from  the  branch  of  a  tree,  and 
an  iron  trap  is  hidden  in  the  earth  below.  But  it 
is  not  always  successful,  for  wolves  are  wary  and 
have  a  keen  nose  for  iron.  They  are  now  very 
common  in  the  cattle  country,  where  they  used  to 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  83 

be  scarce,  for  the  arrival  of  the  white  man  with  his 
great  herds  of  cattle  has  brought  them  prosperity. 
Before  this  revolution  there  was  not  enough  food 
for  the  wolf-bitches  to  bring  up  their  litters,  only 
the  occasional  carcase  of  a  deer,  and  starvation 
thinned  them  out  rapidly  ;  now  they  live  in  abund- 
ance and  bring  up  large  families.  They  are  always 
thick  in  land  where  rolling  plain  meets  the  spurs 
of  the  mountains,  for  they  can  hunt  on  the  level 
without  getting  sore  feet,  and  hide  in  the  rocks 
when  pursued.  They  can  kill  any  calf  they  select, 
and  they  are  very  destructive,  murdering  wantonly, 
for  they  never  return  to  their  victim,  but  kill  afresh 
when  they  are  hungry ;  so  that  the  ranchers  have 
begun  a  systematic  campaign  against  them. 

On  big  mountain  ranches  a  wolf-trapper  is  em- 
ployed regularly,  and  bounties  are  offered  by 
owners  and  local  authorities  for  wolf  scalps ;  a 
careful  rancher  injects  the  carcase  of  every  deer 
he  kills  with  strychnine.  Indeed,  poison,  either  in 
this  fashion  or  by  scattering  pieces  of  poisoned 
meat,  is  a  more  successful  method  of  destroying 
them  than  trapping.  Their  sign  is  seen  everywhere, 
and  the  sight  of  a  single  beast,  or  a  band  of  two  or 
three,  slinking  away  was  common  enough,  but  they 
are  not  easy  to  reach.  In  the  plains  the  cow- 
puncher  will  rope  at  the  small  coyote  wolves,  but  I 
have  never  heard  of  their  venturing  to  catch  the 
"  lobo  "  wolf,  the  huge  timber-wolf  of  the  mountains, 
a  splendid  animal,  whose  fur  is  as  white  in  winter 
as  that  of  a  polar  bear.  Their  peculiarities,  and 
especially  their  effrontery,  are  curious  ;  they  like  to 


84  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

travel  along  paths  and  roads,  leaving  their  dog-like 
tracks  along  them.  They  will  howl  round  a  lonely 
ranch  on  a  moonless  night  of  a  winter,  as  if  they 
knew  their  long,  blood-curdling  cry,  dreariest  and 
mournfulest  of  sounds,  the  very  voice  of  desolation 
and  famine,  harmonised  perfectly  with  the  scene. 
Their  very  harmfulness  to  cattle  makes  them 
innocuous  to  man,  for  they  are  so  grossly  overfed 
they  can  hardly  run  away  from  him,  far  less  molest 
him.  I  profited  by  their  tameness  in  a  rather 
unusual  experience. 

I  was  riding  back  to  the  ranch,  in  winter  with  the 
snow  on  the  ground.  My  horse  was  taking  me 
slowly  up  a  narrow  canyon,  winding  and  turning, 
at  the  bottom  of  which  there  was  just  room  for  the 
road.  As  I  turned  one  corner  I  saw  a  big  animal, 
as  large  as  a  mastiff  and  looking  like  a  white  collie, 
come  trotting  down  the  road  towards  me  ;  its  beauty 
in  its  silvery  white  winter  coat  left  me  for  a  moment 
breathless,  and  I  did  not  immediately  realise  it  was 
a  lobo ;  he  cannot  then  have  been  more  than  a 
few  yards  from  me.  He  turned  back  and  mildly 
trotted  off,  recognising  in  me  a  possibly  undesirable 
acquaintance.  I  spurred  my  horse,  pulled  my  gun, 
and  was  immediately  right  up  on  him ;  leaning  over, 
I  fired  at  him  almost  point-blank.  My  six-shooter 
missed  fire.  Bored  by  my  unprovoked  molestation, 
the  wolf  climbed  up  the  side  of  the  canyon.  I  again 
cocked  my  pistol,  wheeled  my  horse,  and  fired  at 
his  flank,  a  huge  mark,  and  a  few  yards  off,  and 
again  it  missed  fire.  He  was  now  trotting  on  un- 
concernedly up  the  side  of  the  canyon,  reflecting 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  85 

unfavourably  on  the  state  of  affairs  that  exposed  an 
innocent  wayfarer  in  the  woods  like  him  to  this 
kind  of  annoyance.  I  jumped  off  my  horse  to  have 
a  steadier  aim  at  him  with  both  hands,  and  took 
three  more  shots,  and  every  time  my  six-shooter 
missed  fire.  Furious,  I  flung  it  open,  and  found 
every  cartridge  was  empty.  Some  foolish  cow- 
puncher  at  the  ranch  where  I  had  stayed  the  night 
before  had  taken  it  out  of  my  belt  when  by  back 
was  turned  and  fired  it  off  for  fun  without  telling 
me.  The  last  I  saw  of  the  wolf  he  was  standing  on 
the  rock  far  above  me,  looking  at  me  and  grinning 
good-naturedly,  just  like  a  collie  dog  that  wants  to 
play. 

As  the  spring  approaches  and  the  ground  gets 
harder,  the  foreman  will  often  take  a  daily  expedi- 
tion of  inspection  over  his  range,  searching  for 
mavericks  (unbranded  calves),  which  he  ropes 
and  brands.  This  is  a  surreptitious  piece  of  fine 
sport  for  him,  galloping  by  himself  after  a  two- 
year-old  and  catching  him  in  the  open.  Heavy 
lumps  of  rock-salt,  brought  out  in  the  waggon,  are 
loaded  on  the  mules,  and  carried  to  the  salt-grounds, 
which  are  scattered  all  over  the  mountains.  Pre- 
sumably salt  is  good  for  animals  anywhere,  but  it 
seems  a  necessity  to  those  who  live  off  fresh  moun- 
tain grass.  This  is  a  lesson  soon  learnt  when  you 
find  your  saddle  stock  have  run  away  at  night  in 
search  of  it,  and  you  have  to  look  for  them  on  foot 
for  a  week.  To  give  them  salt  to  lick  as  often  as 
possible  is  the  best  way  of  keeping  them  near  camp- 
Even  the  white  and  black  tailed  deer  flit  down  to  the 


86  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

salt-grounds,  and  cows  are  driven  almost  frantic  by 
the  want  of  it.  These  stolid  matrons  lose  all  sense  of 
modesty  in  their  desire  for  it,  and  have  to  be  shooed 
out  of  camp  ;  in  the  absence  of  the  occupants,  and 
no  doubt  partly  from  the  curiosity  which  torments 
cattle,  they  chew  everything  with  a  taste  of  salt  in 
it.  On  their  return  these  occupants  find  their  soap 
and  towel  have  gone  to  form  the  lunch  of  a  cow. 
The  heavy  blocks  of  salt,  flung  down  at  the  salt- 
grounds,  diminish  rapidly,  and  are  a  great  domesti- 
cating influence.  It  is  easy  to  drive  cattle  to  them, 
who  know  them  as  a  voluntary  rendezvous. 

In  spite  of  these  tasks  the  winter  is  a  period  of 
inoccupation,  and  the  cattle  are  left  to  lead  vag- 
rant, undisturbed  lives  in  their  beautiful  mountain 
valleys.  It  is  the  time  for  holidays  in  town,  which 
is  only  two  days  off  on  horseback ;  there  the  cow- 
puncher,  extensively  barbered,  renounces  his  ragged, 
picturesque  attire  and  puts  on  clumsy  black  town 
clothes,  and  hangs  round  a  street  corner,  next  to  a 
saloon,  staring  fascinated  at  his  new  red  socks.  His 
recreations  are  getting  drunk,  losing  his  wages  at 
cards,  and  far  from  delicate  amours. 

In  the  spring  the  ground  dries  and  the  new  grass 
springs  up,  proclaimed  by  the  loud  bellowing  of  the 
bulls  in  the  mountains.  The  horses  are  collected, 
the  beds  and  food  and  cooking  material  are  packed 
on  mules,  and  the  punchers  go  into  camp.  The 
easy  tenor  of  the  cattle's  lives  in  their  grassy  haunts 
is  rudely  interrupted,  and  they  are  chased,  roped, 
driven,  and  imprisoned  in  corrals.  A  camp-fire  is 
the  real  home  of  cowboys,  and  a  roof  is  irksome  to 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  87 

them.  Even  when  under  it  they  avoid  the  use  of 
chairs,  and  reject  all  meat  but  their  unpalatable  and 
indigestible  camp  food.  The  walls  of  a  ranch,  into 
which  only  severe  weather  can  drive  them,  are  a 
confinement,  where  their  spirits  grow  dull  and 
yawning,  and  their  manners  hubristic.  Going  into 
camp  is  a  release,  and  they  regain  their  humour  and 
good  temper.  Refractory  animals  and  inclement 
weather,  and  untoward  circumstances  and  boorish 
companions,  sometimes  make  this  life  under  the 
sky  unsweet ;  but  it  offers  endless  rides  in  lovely, 
sequestered  vales  and  mountain-tops,  and  the  in- 
exhaustible pleasure  given  by  these  spacious  scenes. 
The  circulation  of  the  camp  will  last  till  next 
autumn.  In  this  main  occupation  of  rounding-up 
and  in  all  other  subsidiary  tasks,  horses  and  mules 
are  the  instruments.  The  distances  make  them 
indispensable,  and  Texans  are,  according  to  their 
own  expression,  born  on  a  horse  and  almost  for- 
get to  walk.  Horses  consequently  fill  the  life  of  a 
ranch ;  the  attention  they  receive  is  very  different 
from  that  given  to  an  English  one,  whose  diet  and 
health  and  toilette  demand  such  care  and  expense. 
Still,  something  has  to  be  done  for  them ;  for  the 
rocks  they  have  to  be  shod.  The  shoeing  is  of  a 
very  rude  and  very  wholesome  kind.  The  iron 
shoe  is  cold  fitted :  it  is  selected  from  a  number 
of  sizes,  and,  unheated,  is  roughly  shaped  to  the 
hoof  with  the  hammer.  This,  of  course,  does  not 
allow  of  such  a  neat  fit  as  a  blacksmith  can  give, 
who  softens  his  metal  in  the  fire  before  he  shapes 
it.  On  the  other  hand,  no  cowpuncher  would  cut 


88  A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

or  pare  the  hoof  in  the  stupid  and  cruel  way  most 
blacksmiths  do,  and  grooms  allow  :  he  leaves  it 
almost  untouched  except  for  a  little  filing  with  a 
rasp — the  only  humane  way,  though  his  motive  is 
not  humanitarian.  His  reason  is  that  he  does  not 
want  a  lame  horse  in  his  mount.  Shoeing  is  thus 
a  constant  drudgery  of  a  ranch.  Except  for  this 
attention,  he  has  little  done  for  him;  and  he  combs 
himself  by  rolling,  as  soon  as  you  unsaddle  him, 
in  the  first  patch  of  sand  he  can  find.  Sometimes, 
of  course,  a  vicious  old  bull  will  gore  him,  and  the 
deep  wound  in  his  shoulder  is  roughly  doctored. 
Or  he  eats  the  poisonous  "  loco  weed,"  that  strange 
toxic  which  wastes  his  body  and  disorders  his 
brain,  and  sometimes  kills  him.  But  these  are 
occasional  accidents,  and  it  is  not  the  person  of 
the  horses  that  makes  the  demand  on  your  time, 
it  is  the  incessant  search  for  them  all  over  the 
country.  In  the  home  pasture  around  the  ranch 
wander  dozens  of  horses  in  search  of  their  scanty 
fare.  Outside  it,  all  over  the  range,  the  others  are 
turned  loose  to  stray  in  it  like  the  cattle  ;  being 
branded  like  the  cattle,  they  cannot  be  stolen. 
They  are  rarely  lost,  for  nearly  every  horse  will 
"run"  in  his  own  peculiar  country,  and  return 
to  it  with  singular  regularity  whenever  he  is  turned 
out  :  usually  they  are  found  in  groups  of  two  or 
three,  knit  in  bands  of  the  closest  friendship.  This 
makes  them  easier  to  find,  but  still  a  dispropor- 
tionate portion  of  one's  time  is  taken  up  hunting 
for  a  particular  horse.  For  in  spite  of  the  large 
numbers  used  by  each  cowpuncher,  each  horse 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  89 

cannot,  feeding  as  he  does  on  grass  alone,  stand 
long  bouts  of  work.  Each  must  be  given  a  rest 
after  a  few  weeks.  Consequently  fresh  batches 
of  horses  are  always  wanted,  and  are  always  being 
collected  to  be  driven  into  the  ranch  to  replace 
those  made  thin  and  haggard  by  work ;  or  a  par- 
ticular beast  is  wanted  :  for  hours  you  ride  search- 
ing his  favourite  haunts,  watching  the  blazing 
hillsides  and  endless  thickets,  and  poring  over 
the  ground  till  your  eyes  ache.  At  last  you  find 
the  marks  of  hoofs  fresh  made  on  the  ground, 
which  lead  you  straight  to  some  remote  little 
canyon  where  your  object  and  two  of  his  friends 
stand,  his  head  uplifted  with  surprise.  He  neighs 
hospitably  as  a  new  companion  appears  on  the 
crest  of  the  hill.  Sometimes  all  the  horses  are 
turned  loose  in  winter  in  some  grassy,  sheltered 
upland,  and  a  man  is  posted  in  a  horse-camp  to 
keep  them  together. 

This  is  the  natural  life  for  a  horse  to  lead.  The 
rocks  and  the  slopes  harden  him  and  give  him  an 
endurance  he  loses  on  the  road  and  in  the  stable. 
Though,  of  course,  sore  backs  and  girth  sores  are 
common,  the  effects  of  heavy  saddles  and  roping, 
I  never  heard  of  any  lameness  in  the  hundreds  of 
horses  I  came  across ;  besides,  leading  this  healthy 
life  they  escape  the  ignorant  owner  and  the  em- 
pirical groom  and  the  interested  vet.  His  horse 
is  a  man's  best  friend  in  the  mountains,  a  maxim 
which  even  the  unphilosophical  cowpuncher  can 
grasp,  and  not  a  toy.  Their  playground  is  also 
their  working  ground ;  on  the  steep  slopes  and 


90  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

stony  precipices  where  they  roam  cropping  the 
grass,  they  also  pursue  the  cattle.  With  a  man 
on  their  backs  they  move  among  them  with  the 
intrepid  agility  of  cats,  and  scour  the  sides  of  a 
mountain  at  which  others  would  shudder.  They 
cease  to  be  the  dependent  and  luxurious  animals 
of  civilisation,  but  grow  self-reliant  as  well  as 
hardy  and  frugal.  The  grass  is  thin  and  spare 
on  these  summits,  and  innumerable  cattle  com- 
pete with  them  for  it.  Yet  most  of  them  get  no 
other  food ;  they  must  be  energetic  if  they  want 
to  keep  fat.  This  struggle  perhaps  gives  a  cow- 
pony  a  degree  of  intelligence  superior  to  that  of 
his  more  civilised  brethren.  A  dupe  and  hysterical, 
—fortunately  for  us,  otherwise  that  great  mass  of 
muscle  would  not  allow  himself  to  be  controlled 
by  such  trivial  things  as  reins  and  whips  and  spurs 
— spending  his  last  drop  of  strength  in  your  service 
with  foolish  generosity,  and  at  other  times  injuring 
you  in  his  panic  with  the  most  wanton  folly,  the 
horse  has  smaller  mental  powers  than  his  com- 
panion beasts  of  burden  the  mule  and  the  donkey : 
but  in  that  life  he  seems  to  gain  some  of  the  as- 
tuteness, as  well  as  a  grain  of  the  malice,  of  his 
colleague  the  mule. 

Mules  are  also  one  of  the  rancher's  most  im- 
portant instruments  of  work,  on  which  he  packs 
his  property  about.  In  their  youth  they  are 
cursed  with  a  diabolical  perversity  of  character, 
and  employ  the  brains  they  receive  from  the 
donkey  side  of  the  family  to  the  ruin  of  mankind. 
The  most  meritorious  will  at  any  moment  buck 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  91 

their  packs  off,  or  scrape  them  off  against  a  tree, 
or  refuse  to  be  caught,  or  to  be  loaded,  or  to  be 
driven,  or  wheel  and  kick  you  as  you  unpack  them, 
and  nothing  but  violence,  and  that  sometimes  fails, 
can  exorcise  the  devils  that  haunt  their  souls.  But 
their  old  age  is  august  and  benign,  and  in  elderly 
mules  wisdom,  and  the  art  of  breaking  into  corn- 
bins,  reaches  great  heights.  The  horse  element  is 
purged  away  in  the  fire  of  life  and  experience,  and 
they  almost  become  pure  donkeys.  They  almost 
attain  the  magnanimity  and  the  serene  outlook 
upon  life  of  that  little  animal.  Like  him  they 
then  look  upon  the  injuries  and  abuse  of  man 
with  the  same  high  disdain,  face  danger  with  the 
same  imperturbable  composure,  and  perform  their 
daily  task  with  the  same  comic  patience. 

It  is  in  that  game  which  makes  up  his  work  that 
the  cowhorse  shows  what  sense  he  has.  He  chases 
and  drives  cattle  with  greater  zest  than  his  master. 
He  knows  his  part  when  the  rope  is  in  use :  as  soon 
as  it  has  flown  round  the  neck  of  the  beast  he  fixes 
his  feet  in  the  ground  to  meet  the  strain  on  himself, 
and  he  keeps  the  rope,  which  is  tied  to  the  steel 
pommel  of  his  saddle,  always  taut,  while  his  rider 
jumps  off  and  deals  with  the  beast.  He  has  so 
firm  a  grasp  of  the  principle  of  never  "giving 
slack,"  that  a  cowpuncher  on  a  reliable  horse  will 
rope  small  black  and  brown  bear  :  they  jump  off 
and  kill  him  with  their  knives  and  guns,  feeling 
perfectly  confident  that  their  pony  will  never  let 
him  charge  them. 

Only  geldings  are  used,  and  this  custom  is  in  its 


92  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

origin  reasonable.  In  a  "  remuda  "  of  several  scores 
of  beasts  driven  together,  the  distracting  presence 
of  a  mare  would  cause  jealous  kicking  and  biting ; 
but  this  custom  has  hardened  into  one  of  the  most 
rigid  prejudices  of  the  cowpuncher's  bigoted  mind, 
and  to  ride  a  mare  or  a  donkey  is  an  insufferable 
disgrace  to  him.  The  mares  therefore  are  allowed 
to  run  loose  on  the  range.  Every  few  years  a  batch 
of  wild  horses  is  broken  :  a  bronco-twister  is  hired 
at  a  high  rate  and  stays  on  the  ranch.  His  horse- 
breaking  is  a  desperate  struggle  between  man  and 
beast,  and  a  rapid,  if  cruel,  method  :  or  rather  there 
is  no  resistance  on  the  part  of  the  horse  in  the 
proper  sense  of  the  word,  but  only  an  ecstasy  of 
terror  :  it  would  be  a  great  shock  to  any  animal 
to  be  taken  from  entire  freedom  to  the  control  of 
a  horseman,  much  more  so  for  a  horse,  who  is 
by  nature  nervous  and  senseless.  Most  of  the 
horses  have  never  seen  a  man  before,  and  often 
have  to  be  roped  and  dragged  into  the  corral. 
There  he  is  again  thrown  violently  to  the  ground 
and  a  rope  halter,  to  which  a  long  rope  hangs, 
is  fitted  to  his  head.  Their  dispositions  vary ; 
gentle  creatures  are  sometimes  found  who  can 
almost  immediately  be  ridden  bare-back  ;  but  more 
usually  the  opposition  to  man  is  furious,  and  he 
imposes  his  will  only  by  brutal  violence.  He 
simply  saddles  and  rides  him,  though  the  succes- 
sive acts  of  putting  his  blanket  and  his  saddle 
and  himself  on  the  frantic  creature  are  long  and 
hazardous.  That  great  mass  of  strength,  by  nature 
so  timid  that  he  can  usually  be  controlled  by  flick- 


A  THREE-FOOT    STOOL  93 

ing  him  with  a  twig,  turns  into  a  kind  of  wild  beast. 
He  "pitches" — bucks, as  we  call  it — round  and  round 
the  corral,  kicking  and  foaming  :  with  his  head 
down  he  sometimes  makes  for  the  bronco-twister 
to  paw  him,  striking  out  with  his  fore-feet.  The 
twister  waits  for  these  paroxysms  to  exhaust  him : 
time  and  again  he  ropes  him  by  the  fore  and  hind 
legs  and  throws  him  to  the  ground.  The  nature 
of  their  resistance  is  rarely  the  same.  Some  fight 
for  hours  before  they  allow  the  blanket  to  touch 
their  withers.  Others  stand  drooping  with  sleepy 
eyes,  reserving  their  strength  till  they  are  mounted. 
As  soon  as  he  touches  the  saddle  they  "  swallow 
their  heads,"  in  the  vivid  Western  phrase  which 
expresses  the  disappearance  of  the  head  of  a  pitch- 
ing horse  between  his  fore-legs,  and  pitch  and  rear 
and  kick  frenziedly,  sometimes  bellowing  with  that 
horrible  roar  a  horse  so  rarely  makes. 

This  frantic  pitching  of  wild  horses  is  very 
different  from  the  deliberate  bucking  of  a  vicious 
or  overfed  beast.  It  is  an  insane  convulsion  which 
often  ends  in  his  turning  head  over  heels.  Herein 
lies  the  real  danger,  and  it  is  not  getting  thrown  off 
but  remaining  on  a  pitching  horse  that  is  perilous. 
I  enjoyed  perfect  security.  When  he  pitches,  he 
adds,  besides,  variety  and  complication  to  his  move- 
ments :  he  is  not  content  to  jar  his  rider  loose  by 
coming  down  with  humped  back  on  legs  as  stiff 
as  iron  :  he  "weaves,"  whirls  in  the  air  sideways, 
sometimes  one  way  and  sometimes  the  other ;  or 
"changes  ends,"  turning  round  as  he  rises  and 
comes  down  again  ;  or  "  sun  fishes,"  inclines  him- 


94  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

self  out  of  the  perpendicular  in  the  air.  On  a 
neighbouring  ranch  a  pitching  horse  turned  up- 
side down  in  the  air,  and  drove  his  unwary  rider's 
brains  out  through  his  nose  and  ears. 

The  horsemanship  of  cowboys  is  admired,  and 
deservedly.  It  is  difficult  to  institute  any  com- 
parison between  it  and  other  forms.  It  is  as  re- 
mote as  possible  from  the  delicate  management 
of  the  school  or  heavy  control  of  the  trooper ; 
giving  little  care  to  direction,  the  puncher  has  a 
powerful  mechanical  aid  in  his  large  saddle,  as 
comfortable  as  an  armchair.  Theodore  Roose- 
veldt,  who  has  experience  and  perhaps  authority 
on  the  subject,  thinks  riding  to  hounds  a  finer  test 
of  horsemanship  than  cowpunching,  and  taking  a 
line  across  enclosed  country  more  difficult  than 
working  cattle.  The  weight  of  his  verdict  is  in- 
creased by  the  fact  that  this  patriot's  leanings 
would  be  to  something  American ;  it  is  diminished 
by  the  fact  that  his  own  ranch  lay  in  the  Dakotas, 
comparatively  easy  land,  far  different  from  the 
rocks  and  cliffs  of  the  Rockies.  The  first  quality 
of  the  cow-hand  is  the  impetuous  boldness  with 
which  he  rides  over  that  awesome  rough  country, 
its  gloomy  canyons  cut  straight  into  the  earth, 
hundreds  of  feet  deep,  its  inclines  strewn  with 
stones  and  boulders  thicker  than  the  sea-shore. 
He  races  along  or  down  these  slopes,  as  fast  as 
his  generous  pony  will  carry  him,  and  spurs  him 
up  them.  In  his  own  phrase,  he  would  "go  down 
the  cliffs  of  Hell  after  a  cow,  and  bring  her  back, 
too."  The  merit  no  doubt  is  partly  to  be  attributed 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  95 

to  the  sure  feet  of  the  horse.  Indeed,  I  trusted  their 
legs  much  more  than  my  own  when  a  deep  gulf 
below  made  my  heart  sink  and  my  head  swim  : 
dismounted,  I  should  have  dropped  on  all  fours 
and  crawled.  The  cowpuncher  also  goes  straight 
at  full  gallop  through  the  "  brush/'  close  thickets 
of  stubby  live-oaks  and  firs  with  limbs  projecting 
to  knock  him  over,  and  steep  treacherous  ground 
beneath  him. 

Another  quality  is  the  insight  they  are  gifted  with 
into  the  temper  of  that  strange  creature,  the  horse, 
as  well  as  judgment  of  his  points,  condition,  and 
endurance.  A  Texan  reads  horses  far  better  and 
quicker  than  he  does  men,  for  his  familiarity  with 
them  is  greater,  and  his  intimacy,  begun  in  baby- 
hood, is  more  constant.  He  can  go  up  to  one  and 
catch  one  who  would  not  allow  you  within  yards  of 
him  ;  he  can  shoe  one  without  having  even  to  put  a 
bandage  on  his  eyes,  who  would  kick  you  to  pieces 
if  you  tried.  He  knows  how  to  treat  him  when  he 
is  young,  or  wild,  or  nervous,  or  sluggish,  to  prevent 
him  pitching,  to  prevent  him  falling  when  he  does, 
how  rough  a  country  he  can  get  over,  how  far  he 
can  go,  and  all  this  science  is  of  inestimable 
value  in  a  country  where  you  are  dependent  on 
your  horse  every  moment. 

Another  quality  is  their  balanced  ease  in  the 
saddle.  They  grow  into  their  seats,  and  become 
demi-natured  with  the  animal,  and  perform  tricks 
of  the  circus  on  them,  except  that  their  feats  have  a 
real  object.  Sitting  a  pitching  horse  is  only  one  of 
the  tricks  of  this  kind,  to  balance  yourself  during 


96  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

the  leaps  and  gyrations  of  the  beast  with  feet  and 
with  stirrups,  and  with  elbows  to  shift  the  weight  of 
the  shoulders.  They  complicate  this  trick  in  a  riding 
competition  ;  while  the  horse  goes  up  and  comes 
down,  the  winner  will  take  his  coat  off  and  put  it 
on  again,  or  take  a  foot  out  of  the  stirrups,  or  take 
the  bridle  off,  or  they  will  ride  him  two  at  a  time. 
These  are  pretty  scenes  in  an  open,  grassy  cir- 
cus, but  a  pitching  horse,  however  fine  the  rider 
is,  is  a  distressing  sight  in  the  mountains,  where  the 
furious  horseman,  threatened  if  he  falls  by  tree 
trunks  and  steep  cliffs  and  great  boulders,  curses 
and  spurs  and  flogs  his  frantic  horse.  The  young 
centaurs  perform  other  and  more  graceful  tricks ; 
they  crook  their  legs  round  the  big  cantle  of  the 
saddle  and  pick  up  objects  off  the  ground  even 
when  going  at  a  good  pace,  a  most  useful  and 
enviable  accomplishment ;  take  a  running  jump  on 
to  a  horse  they  know  will  start  pitching  as  soon  as 
they  touch  the  saddle.  Some  "  top  hands,"  but  of 
course  they  are  rare,  are  quite  phenomenal  horse- 
men, and  will  habitually  look  for  and  select  a  whole 
mount  of  beasts  more  vicious  than  any  English  one 
ever  can  be,  except  some  famous  monsters.  I 
have  heard  of  them,  when  their  horse  was  pitching 
down  the  side  of  a  steep  hill,  and  they  knew  that 
a  touch  of  the  spurs  would  make  him  turn  a 
somersault,  standing  up  straight  in  their  stirrups 
to  keep  their  feet  from  touching  his  sides. 

As  long  as  their  horses  remain  only  half  broken, 
their  horsemanship  is  likely  to  remain  at  the  same 
high  level ;  but  there  is  less  fast  and  difficult  riding 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  97 

than  there  used  to  be,  for  the  cattle  have  grown 
more  gentle,  as  a  result  of  a  more  careful  and 
intensive  system  of  cattle-farming.  Even  now 
they  are  far  from  being  the  placid  creatures  of  our 
farms,  and  it  takes  a  horse,  and  sometimes  a  fast 
horse,  to  get  near  them.  At  the  sight  of  a  man  the 
long-legged  creatures  twist  their  tails,  and  fly  off 
into  the  brush.  Often  they  are  combative;  their 
horns  are  weapons,  and  they  know  how  to  use 
them. 

But  they  are  becoming  gentle,  for  it  pays  to  have 
them  so.  If  his  cattle  are  wild  the  owner  can  never 
gather  his  steers  when  he  wants  them,  or  have  them 
fat,  or  use  old,  cheap  horses,  or  inexpensive  hands. 
You  gentle  cattle  by  treating  them  gently.  Riding 
after  them  hard  and  roping  them  and  all  other 
displays  are  discouraged  under  this  prudent  policy. 
Once  a  steer  has  run  away  from  a  horseman,  he 
thinks  he  has  had  a  narrow  escape  from  some 
danger,  and  next  time  he  sees  the  horseman  he 
gallops  off  again;  pent  inside  an  enclosure,  he  learns 
to  view  with  equanimity  the  pony  and  the  whirling 
rope.  The  right  economic  principle  is  to  put  corrals 
everywhere,  and  drive  your  cattle  into  them  slowly ; 
to  ride  in  among  terrified  beasts  only  when  they 
are  within  these  posts  and  bars,  and  cannot  get 
away.  This  is  the  modern  way.  In  the  old  days 
there  were  no  corrals,  and  the  cowpuncher  had  to 
work  in  the  open.  He  would  chase  the  cattle  all 
over  the  mountains,  and  at  the  very  sight  of  a 
horseman  they  would  scatter  wildly  in  all  directions. 
"  Busting  "  these  fugitives  allowed  the  cowpuncher  to 

G 


98  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

practise  and  perfect  his  roping — again  at  the  cost  of 
the  owner,  who  suffered  in  the  broken  necks  and 
legs  of  his  property.  These  displays  are  now 
strongly  discouraged,  and  can  only  be  indulged  in 
away  from  the  sharp  eyes  of  the  foreman  ;  and  the 
taste  for  roping  diminishes  with  the  habit.  At  the 
same  time  English  strains  of  blood  have  been 
introduced,  and  their  offspring  show  hereditary 
docility.  The  lean,  long-horned  Mexican  is  gradu- 
ally succeeded  by  the  fat  and  phlegmatic  Hereford 
or  Galloway,  in  whose  dull  blood  the  fire  of  his 
Mexican  ancestry  is  quenched. 

In  the  same  way  the  more  secure  conditions  of 
actual  life  have  made  the  younger  generation  less 
eminent  marksmen  than  their  predecessors,  who 
perfected  themselves,  not  out  of  gratification,  but 
out  of  necessity.  However,  the  six-shooter  is  still 
indispensable,  and  many  occasions  arise  for  using 
it.  A  cowpuncher  shoots  at  everything  ;  the  prairie- 
dogs  that  pop  their  heads  out  of  their  burrows; 
any  stray  wolf  or  wild  cat  he  may  meet ;  the  wild 
mares  that  stampede  his  horses;  the  skunk,  some- 
times hydrophobic,  who  threatens  to  soil  his  camp ; 
all  dogs  when  he  is  driving  a  big  herd,  for  the  very 
sight  of  one  makes  mountain  cattle  stampede.  He 
uses  it  as  a  signal ;  when  beasts  "  baulk,"  in  our 
language  "jib,"  he  moves  them  by  firing  under 
them.  If  some  vicious  old  bull  chases  and  pursues 
him,  he  must  save  his  horse  and  himself ;  when  a 
wild  old  steer  is  roped,  he  will  sometimes  turn  and 
charge,  and  the  cowpuncher,  who  has  usually 
jumped  off  to  throw  him,  must  save  his  own  person. 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  99 

In  a  stampede  at  night  he  uses  his  revolver  as  a 
call  for  help,  and  to  turn  the  column  of  charging 
beasts  by  firing  right  under  the  leaders ;  if  he  can 
get  the  head  of  the  column  to  turn  round  and 
round  in  a  circle,  technically  to  "mill,"  the  whole 
herd  will  continue  to  revolve  till  they  are  exhausted ; 
if  they  continued  in  a  straight  line  they  would 
scatter  far  and  wide,  and  most  of  them  would  be 
lost.  Considering  their  opportunities,  the  skill  of 
cowboys  with  a  revolver  is  not  surprising;  it  is 
probably  not  higher  than  that  of  a  man  who  shoots 
very  much  with  a  shot-gun.  But  they  all  have  a 
lightning  rapidity,  and  at  close  quarters  aim  not 
with  the  eye  but  by  putting  the  index  finger  along 
the  barrel  and  pulling  the  trigger  with  the  middle. 
Their  heavy  revolver,  almost  a  small  carbine,  is 
also  an  accurate  weapon  in  experienced  hands  at 
something  like  a  hundred  yards.  Those  who  are 
ambitious  of  expert  skill,  and  who  will  spend  their 
wages  in  cartridges,  can  display  remarkable  tricks, 
using  revolvers  with  either  hand,  or  doing  the 
following  kind  of  thing:  emptying  six  bullets  into 
one  tree  as  they  ride  past  it  at  a  good  pace ;  or 
they  put  two  guns  on  the  ground,  throw  up  two 
cans  of  tinned  tomatoes,  pick  up  a  revolver  in 
each  hand,  and  burst  both  tins  before  they  can 
drop  to  the  ground.  Some,  whom  accident  has 
usually  forced  to  kill  other  men,  are  miraculous 
shots,  which  incidents  and  accomplishments  almost 
invariably  make  them  successful  candidates  for  the 
post  of  town  constable,  or  marshal  as  it  is  called. 
But  this  last  class  are  men  almost  invariably  of  an 


ioo  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

older  generation,  superior  to  and  unlike  the  present 
cowpuncher.  The  change  in  conditions  and  absence 
of  real  danger,  the  disappearance  of  the  open  range 
before  enclosures,  the  subdivision  of  land,  and  con- 
sequently a  more  careful  system  of  farming,  has 
much  diminished  the  amount  of  risk  and  sport  in 
their  lives ;  their  resemblance  to  farm  labourers 
becomes  greater  and  greater.  They  consent  more 
and  more  to  work  on  foot — to  do  "  ground  work." 
Their  predecessors,  whose  lordly  boast  it  was  that 
"they  only  knew  a  rope  and  a  branding-iron," 
would  have  stared  if  they  had  been  asked  to  do 
anything  so  menial. 


CHAPTER  V 

"  Thou  pourest  swiftly,  Light, 

From  numbers  infinite 

Of  suns  and  stars  that  fill  the  void  immense. 
Without  thy  sovereign  aid 
Beauty  itself,  thy  maid, 
Had  never  reached  the  dull  and  helpless  sense  ; 

And  Life,  the  first  and  eldest  born, 
In  everlasting  dark  had  lain  for  aye  forlorn. 

We  owe  to  thee  each  morn 
The  beams  that  then  are  born 
To  give  their  colour  to  the  shape  of  things  : 
To  thee  the  golden  rose 
Upon  those  distant  snows, 
Celestial  shadows  of  some  angel  wings. 

To  thee  the  calm  and  smiling  blue 

Of  heavens  that    spread  their  beauty   soft   the   summer 
through. 

The  depth  of  the  grey  sea 
Is  strangely  turned  by  thee 

Into  Nymphs'  coral-strewn  and  coloured  bowers. 
The  lofty  liner  ploughs 
A  wave  around  its  bows 
Of  breaking  foam,  transformed  by  thee  to  flowers 

Of  mystic  white,  like  the  heaped  piles 
Of  blossoms  that  in  spring  do  crown  the  orchard  aisles. 

The  sparkling  gleaming  tide, 
That  in  the  heart  does  hide 


102  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

Of  gems,  does  from  thy  brilliance  flow. 
The  neck  and  bosom  high, 
On  which  those  jewels  lie, 
Gain  their  enchanting  splendours  from  thy  glow; 

And  the  beloved,  desired  glance 
Of  eyes  draws  all  its  powers  from  thy  sweet  assistance. 

O'er  woodland,  wild  and  lone, 
And  grass  and  brush  and  stone, 
Thou  spreadest  a  lovely  net  of  waving  shade. 
By  thy  caresses 
The  trees  and  their  fair  tresses 
Of  foliage  deep  and  soft  are  pleasant  made ; 

The  lawns  as  well,  where  lovers  stray 
At  night  with  fingers  twined  to  watch  the  shadows  play. 

May  a  spirit  divine 
Of  harmony  like  thine 

Inspire  the  form  of  all  our  thoughts  and  ways. 
From  our  lips  may  all 
The  sentences  that  fall 
Be  clear  and  lovely  as  thy  even  rays : 

And  when  our  clouded  hours  are  past 
May  we  attain  in  full  thy  radiance  calm  at  last." 

REINHOLD  and  I  were  riding  down  from  the  ranch 
into  Magdalena.  Where  one  of  the  streams 
tumbled  down  from  the  mountains  to  dissipate 
itself  in  the  plains,  there  was  a  large  pond,  the 
haunt  of  wild  duck,  and  with  the  intention  of 
killing  some,  each  of  us  had  put  a  shot-gun  in 
the  gun  scabbard  of  our  saddles. 

The  sun  was  driving  fiercely  up  a  fiery  sky,  and 
long  before  we  reached  the  pond  our  faces  were 
burning  and  our  lips  parched  with  heat.  The 
alkaline  dust  had  salted  our  mouths  down  to  our 
throats,  and  we  could  have  called  on  rivers  to  take 
their  course  down  our  burnt  bosoms. 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  103 

On  peeping  over  the  high  dyke  that  rose  up 
one  end  of  the  pond,  we  had  seen  a  whole  flush 
of  ducks,  black  points  on  the  shining  water.  At 
this  sight  I  caught  something  of  Reinhold's  ardour 
and  my  thirst  was  forgotten  ;  receiving  Reinhold's 
instructions,  I  posted  myself  in  a  thick  fringe  of 
tangled  willows  that  overhung  the  bank,  where  I 
waited  and  enjoyed  the  coolness  of  their  impene- 
trable shade  :  the  water  lay  smoothed  to  trans- 
parency by  the  midday  sun.  At  length  Reinhold 
appeared,  crawling  on  the  opposite  shore :  ac- 
cording to  agreement  I  fired  first,  and  the  whole 
squadron  rose  rattling  from  the  water  and  swept 
towards  Reinhold.  His  first  shot  he  missed ;  the 
lead  seemed  to  glance  off  harmlessly  from  their 
quilted  breastplates  of  feather ;  but  he  worked 
his  repeating  shot-gun  rapidly,  and  two  of  the 
charging  duck  were  hit  and  fell  heavily. 

Then  we  went  back  and  lay  down  again  in  am- 
bush. The  squadron  of  duck  had  formed  into  a 
wedge  and  was  circling  aloft.  But  the  water  could 
not  tempt  them  to  settle,  and  they  vanished  high 
into  the  luminous  air.  Reinhold  rejoined  me,  whose 
single  victim  had  fluttered  off  into  the  reeds  with  a 
broken  wing :  I  had  followed  it  by  wading  in 
the  muddy  waters  and  shattered  it.  I  said  to 
Reinhold — 

"  I  have  had  a  desperate  hand-to-hand  encounter 
with  a  duck,  but  I  never  relaxed  my  efforts  till  it 
had  breathed  its  last." 

We  slaked  our  drought  at  a  spring,  and  tramped 
across  the  dust  to  where  our  ponies  stood  waiting. 


104  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

A  legion  of  finches  would  suddenly  rise  from  the 
sandy  furrows,  and  race  by,  and  then  wheel  with  a 
whirr. 

Our  ponies  stood  patiently,  untied  :  their  long 
reins  had  been  dropped  to  the  ground  in  front  of 
them,  which  was  enough  to  keep  them  at  their 
station.  We  remounted,  our  luck  gladdening  us, 
for  the  three  duck  tied  to  the  leather  strings  of 
our  saddles  were  canvas-backs,  equally  exquisite 
in  taste  and  colour.  Reinhold  handled  their  thick 
soft  plumage  in  which  ran  all  tints  of  grey,  from 
black  to  beige.  He  liked  shooting  and  was  skilful; 
I  like  birds  disinterestedly  and  prefer  lying  on  my 
back  and  watching  them  through  field-glasses  to 
shooting  at  them.  He  expressed  his  sense  of  their 
beauty  and  his  regret  that  no  man  had  ever  had 
the  art  to  describe  it  or  their  flight.  But  this  was 
a  point  I  could  lecture  Reinhold  on,  and  I  seized 
the  opportunity.  I  said — 

"  You  are  right,  they  are  most  beautiful ;  but  you 
are  wrong  in  thinking  that  no  man  has  tried  to 
express  their  beauty  or  the  grace  of  their  flight. 
Milton  did.  I  expect  he  observed  birds  a  great 
deal  in  the  long  solitary  walks  he  took  round 
Horton  during  the  years  he  stayed  there  almost 
alone,  and  Buckinghamshire  is  a  good  country  for 
birds,  I  should  think.  When  he  began  to  write 
poetry  again  twenty  years  later,  his  mind  was  stored 
with  expressions  about  them,  perfect  examples  of 
his  consummate  verbal  felicity.  The  winged  angels 
and  their  movements  are  his  opportunity  to  intro- 
duce them :  but,  of  course,  it  is  the  birds  of  Horton, 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  105 

and  not  the  Angels  of  Hell  and  Heaven  he  is  thinking 
of  when  he  uses  them,  as  is  so  often  the  case  in  his 
highly  reminiscent  poems.  Have  you  ever  noticed 
how  birds  when  they  come  to  the  ground  have 
lighted  with  even  balance  ?  When  those  ducks 
came  whizzing  over  my  head,  the  air  was  certainly 
brushed  with  the  hiss  of  rustling  wings.  That  line 
carries  the  very  sound  of  the  act.  Each  duck 
winnowed  the  air  with  quick  fan  as  they  raced 
down  the  wind.  At  that  time,  there  must  have  been 
plenty  of  hawks  in  the  Thames  valley,  especially  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Windsor  Forest.  Perhaps  it 
was  them,  perhaps  it  was  seagulls,  he  had  watched 
from  a  cliff,  shave  with  level  wings  the  deep,  then 
soar  up  to  the  sky,  towering  high,  or  come  down, 
throwing  their  steep  flight  in  many  an  airy  wheel, 
'  Then  with  expanded  wing  he  steers  his  flight, 
incumbent  on  the  dusky  air'  suggests  the  heavy 
laboured  movement  of  a  gorged  hawk.  He  would 
have  liked  the  white  hawk  they  have  in  this  country, 
or  those  lordly  eagles  we  saw  hovering  in  the 
canyon  over  the  last  beef  we  killed.  But  Milton 
may  have  seen  eagles  in  the  Apennines  when  he  was 
in  Italy  on  his  travels ;  seen  them  spread  their  sail- 
broad  vans  for  flight,  or  slowly  coming  down,  weigh 
their  spread  wings.  I  think  he  had  only  read  of 
tropical  birds,  and  coloured  plumes  sprinkled  with 
gold,  celestial  ardours  and  gorgeous  wings.  Books 
of  travel  and  geography  were  his  favourite  reading. 
What  I  like  about  the  birds  of  this  country  is  that 
they  are  neither  garish  nor  gaudy  like  those  of  the 
tropics,  nor  drab  and  dull  like  those  in  England ; 


io6  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

but  delicately  painted,  in  perfect  taste.  Even  the 
blackbirds  have  a  dash  of  scarlet  at  the  shoulders, 
like  epaulets,  to  set  off  the  gloss  of  their  wings." 

We  were  now  passing  through  a  mining  camp 
called  San  Rafael.  It  was  the  highest  point  of  the 
rising  rampart  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  to  which 
a  line  of  railway  could  creep,  and  had  the  tumbled 
and  slovenly  air  of  a  mining  camp.  The  wooden 
houses  were  rickety  and  scattered,  the  earth  every- 
where violently  cut  open  and  flung  in  heaps.  Just 
at  the  entrance  of  it  we  stopped  to  look  at  two 
little  forts  built  by  the  Spanish,  somewhere  about 
the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  They  were  made 
of  sun-dried  mud,  "adobe,"  not  much  larger  than 
a  comfortable  room,  with  thick  walls,  and  loop- 
holes adapted  to  the  crossbow.  We  thought  with 
wonder  of  these  splendid  Spanish,  with  sonorous 
names  befitting  their  exploits,  who,  with  horses 
and  crossbows,  had  pushed  on  over  immeasurable 
distances  from  Vera  Cruz,  into  a  country  which 
Americans,  armed  with  rifles  and  railroads,  had 
hardly  penetrated  three  centuries  later.  There 
cannot  have  been  more  than  a  handful  of  them, 
judging  from  the  size  of  the  forts.  They  must 
have  looked  rather  like  cowpunchers  :  worn  the 
same  elegant  sombreros,  ridden  the  same  saddle, 
with  high  cantle  and  pommel,  and  with  the  same 
seat,  and  looked  as  ragged.  But  they  wore  glittering 
breastplates.  The  burning  sun  struck  the  shining 
steel  as  they  slowly  rode  across  the  endless,  dusty 
plains,  and  the  winding  canyons  of  the  mountains 
excited  them.  At  every  turn  they  expected  to  see 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  107 

white  cities  roofed  with  gold,  filled  with  mild  Indian 
men  and  gorgeously  feathered  maidens.  These 
unknown,  forgotten  worthies  consoled  themselves 
for  their  sufferings  in  the  confident  thought  that 
their  names,  blown  with  a  long  blast  in  the  trumpet 
of  fame,  would  be  in  the  ears  of  all  posterity. 

We,  who  knew  well  the  solid  fortress  of  moun- 
tains from  which  we  were  descending,  appreciated 
the  skill  that  had  placed  the  two  little  forts  to 
command  this  gate  into  them.  Three  centuries 
before  the  Spaniard  had  been  a  superhuman  being, 
almost  claimed  the  globe  as  his  heritage.  Now 
his  last  two  colonies  had  just  been  torn  from  him. 
As  we  went  on  I  commented  upon  this  fall. 

"That  country  is  corrupt  from  one  end  to 
another.  There  is  no  Spanish  official  that  does 
not  take  bribes." 

"  It  is  curious,"  Reinhold  said,  "  that  you  should 
assign  corruption  as  the  cause  of  their  decline. 
For  I  suppose  no  country  had  grown  so  vigorously 
during  the  last  century  as  the  United  States ;  it 
looks  as  if  it  would  be  called  upon  in  the  next  to 
decide  the  disputes  of  Europe  and  Asia ;  but  I 
suppose  that  in  no  other  country,  at  no  other  time, 
has  public  corruption  flourished  so  luxuriantly. 
This  could  hardly  be  denied ;  it  is  not  only  flagrant, 
open,  and  avowed,  but  it  is  the  principle  of  the 
system.  Yet  corruption  has  rather  invigorated  than 
drained  the  country.  Or  perhaps  the  fate  of  nations 
is  unaffected  by  their  government.  Spain  would 
decay  under  a  line  of  Peels,  and  the  States  prosper, 
as  they  do,  under  a  Tammany  President." 


io8  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

At  San  Rafael  copper  was  mined.  Almost  every 
mine  and  every  piece  of  land  was  owned  by  a  cor- 
poration originally  formed  on  the  other  side  of  the 
continent,  to  exploit  oil-fields.  It  also  owned  the 
only  store,  the  only  restaurant,  the  only  sleeping- 
house.  If  any  employee  dealt  with  any  other 
store,  restaurant,  or  sleeping-house,  he  was  im- 
mediately dismissed.  The  monopoly  of  this  Trust 
was  universal  and  complete.  We  were  lost  in 
astonishment  at  the  grip  of  this  tentacle,  and  its 
reach. 

Reinhold  and  I,  who  both  had  some  acquaintance 
with  history,  both  had  experienced  the  same  feel- 
ing of  surprise  from  what  we  saw  in  America. 
We  both  knew  something  of  the  history  of  the  last 
hundred  years,  of  the  expectations  and  prognostics 
of  its  political  leaders  and  prophets  ;  Reinhold 
especially,  who  had  been  fed  on  the  purest  milk 
of  German  Liberalism.  Their  miscalculation  and 
error  filled  us  both  with  equal  astonishment,  and 
even  I  had  just  sufficient  information  to  under- 
stand how  really  unexpected  and  unforeseen  the 
condition  of  things  in  this  country  was.  To  some 
the  establishment  of  this  political  system  of  govern- 
ment, of  universal  elections,  universal  representa- 
tion, universal  suffrage,  universal  voting,  seemed 
to  be  chaos  and  end.  They  had  proved  wrong 
in  the  most  signal  fashion,  and  the  people  living 
in  this  democracy  enjoy  as  fair  measure  of  happi- 
ness as  any  government  can  give.  Others,  the 
devotees  of  the  Liberalism  which  got  the  upper 
hand  in  all  civilised  countries,  were  entitled  to 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  109 

expect  that  it  was  here  that  the  opening  of  the 
millennium  would  take  place ;  and  even  if  the  happy 
age  that  was  to  run  its  course  here  was  not  to  be 
completely  golden,  at  least  there  could  be  no  doubt 
to  them  that  the  will  of  the  people,  good  or  bad, 
and  they  thought  it  must  be  good,  was  to  pre- 
vail. Elsewhere  it  was  frustrated  and  impeded 
by  mediaeval  survivals  and  immemorial  habits, 
and  by  all  the  powers  of  reaction.  Here  these 
impediments  had  never  existed  and  it  would  have 
full  play ;  the  government  of  the  people  would 
be  by  the  people  for  the  people.  This  result  was 
inevitable  :  these  masses  were  armed  with  every 
weapon,  offensive  and  defensive,  that  could  be 
given  to  them  ;  in  their  hands  was  put  the  election 
of  every  public  authority,  legislative,  executive,  and 
judicial,  local  and  central,  from  sheriff  to  Presi- 
dent :  chance  assisted  the  plans  of  man  by  putting 
them  at  a  level  of  wealth  no  masses  have  ever 
reached  before,  and  diffusing  a  greater  zeal  for 
education,  proved  by  a  greater  expenditure  for 
that  purpose,  than  in  any  other  country.  Here 
at  least,  for  better  for  worse,  people  were  to  be 
masters.  None  could  doubt  this :  Eldon  and 
Metternich  with  execration,  Lasalle  and  Mazzini 
and  Guizot  and  Gladstone  with  enthusiasm,  would 
all  have  agreed  on  this  point  :  and  this  great 
question  was  not  an  academic  one,  trifling  and 
unconsidered ;  but  the  two  or  three  generations 
that  preceded  ours  thought,  talked,  struggled,  and 
even  died,  for  one  side  or  the  other.  Yet  the  real 
result,  plainly  visible  to  us,  was  anticipated  neither 


no  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

by  the  opponents  nor  by  the  supporters  of  this 
political  arrangement :  this  unlimited  democracy 
is  a  comfortable  and  ordinary  government ;  it  has 
produced  neither  chaos  nor  a  golden  age,  but  one 
indisputable  outcome  of  the  system  at  present,  is 
the  utter  and  complete  helplessness  of  the  masses. 
It  is  a  government  of  the  people  by  millionaires  for 
millionaires.  This  impotent  giant  of  ninety  million 
people  rolls,  and  groans,  and  hurls  curses  at  its 
Wall  Street  masters,  but  it  must  obey  them  and 
sweat  to  pile  up  their  wealth.  He  has  everything 
that  can  be  given  him,  votes  and  bank  accounts 
and  schools,  and  he  is  more  enslaved  than  his  most 
feudalised  European  ancestors. 

I  reflected  that  the  prediction  of  such  a  result 
would  have  seemed  to  our  grandfathers  a  puerile 
paradox,  and  wished  it  could  have  been  com- 
municated to  them  ;  not  to  spite,  but  to  console 
them.  As  the  dearest  ideas  of  men  are  forgotten 
and  rarely  even  understood  by  their  grandsons,  it 
should  comfort  them  for  this  oblivion  to  realise 
their  ideas  were  absolutely  and  completely  mis- 
taken and  erroneous ;  besides,  it  was  a  moderat- 
ing and  calming  thought,  that  in  all  probability 
our  most  valued  political  ideals  may  be  as  much 
a  mirage  as  theirs.  Reinhold  distressed  himself 
over  it.  He  had  been  brought  up  to  think  of 
elective  institutions  as  a  promised  land,  and  he 
was  irritated  to  find  it  so  much  like  the  old 
wilderness  ;  besides,  it  shook  the  foundation  of  the 
numerous  political  schemes  he  possessed  for  the 
regeneration  of  mankind,  and  roused  the  uneasy 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  in 

thought  that  his  panaceas  might  be  as  delusive  as 
the  old  ones. 

We  talked  over  the  condition  of  San  Rafael  in 
the  hands  of  the  Standard  Oil  Trust,  and  I  sug- 
gested that  Trusts  owed  their  existence  to  the 
Tariff.  Reinhold  shook  his  head  :  he  had  the 
solution  of  this  as  well  as  of  all  other  problems, 
and  began — 

"The  evils  this  country  suffers  from  are  not 
fiscal,  but  juridical.  Lawyers  have  caused  it.  Be- 
tween the  actual  facts  and  the  legal  theory  there  is 
a  direct  conflict,  as  so  often  happens,  and  we  groan 
under  the  consequences,  though  we  do  not  see 
the  cause.  The  actual  fact  in  this  case  is  that  this 
nation  is  a  nation  :  it  inhabits  one  country,  has 
one  language,  has  a  national  sentiment :  its  eco- 
nomic unity  is  complete  and  perfect.  But  this  is 
not  the  constitutional  theory:  by  law  this  nation 
is  not  a  nation.  It  is  a  federation.  It  has  no 
proper  central  State  power,  but  only  has  States, 
and  besides  these  States  a  Federal  government. 
From  this  prime  cause,  this  deep  opposition  of 
what  is  and  what  is  supposed  to  be,  proceeds  this 
Trust  evil,  and  all  the  evils  connected  with  it,  the 
disorder  and  the  injustice  and  the  corruption. 

"  For  the  first  time  in  history  private  joint-stock 
companies  have  been  seen  which  are  more  power- 
ful than  Sovereign  States,  though  these  be  girt 
with  all  the  omnipotence  of  the  modern  legislative 
sovereign.  None  of  these  small  countries,  Oregon 
or  the  Dakotas,  are  capable  of  struggling  against 
Standard  Oil,  which  has  cowed  those  who,  like 


ii2  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

Kansas,  have  tried.  In  its  revenues  and  in  its 
population,  in  the  ability  of  its  statesmen  and  the 
energy  of  its  subjects,  Standard  Oil  is  really  the 
larger  power,  and  any  other  issue  of  a  contest 
would  be  unreasonable.  It  is  of  course  a  whale 
among  companies,  though  many  others,  especially 
the  railroads,  are  nearly  as  big  fish. 

"  Part  of  the  work  of  a  government  is  to  restrain 
the  exorbitant  rapacites  of  the  individual,  either  men 
or  companies,  and  the  theory  of  the  Constitution 
delegates  these,  and  the  other  duties  of  government, 
to  the  State  Legislatures  :  they  are  incapable  of 
performing  them  ;  they  are  too  weak  for  their  high 
functions,  and  should  only  have  the  petty  and 
restricted  duties  of  local  bodies.  This  would  have 
suited  the  facts,  which  is  that  the  so-called  States 
are  really  local  areas.  This  is  indisputable  in  the 
West,  where  they  have  no  local  patriotism  and  no 
real  national  feeling,  and  even  in  the  old  States, 
which,  like  Virginia,  once  boasted  of  them,  these 
sentiments  have  greatly  diminished.  But  the  legal 
theory  makes  what  are  really  nothing  more  than 
administrative  areas  into  independent  nations.  On 
the  other  hand,  this  single  country  needs  a  central 
omnipotent  Sovereign,  like  any  other.  But  the 
legal  theory  does  not  give  it  one.  It  only  gives  it 
a  Federal  government  which  has  the  strength  and 
the  situation  to  perform  the  duties  required  from 
the  State,  and  which  could  repress  these  and  all 
other  disorders.  It  could  too  have  bitted  the 
Trusts  and  the  Railroads,  or  rather  it  would  have 
broken  them  in  when  they  were  still  colts.  But 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  113 

the  Constitution  has  not  given  it  this  task ;  it  has 
only  given  it  a  few  and  restricted  duties ;  in  fact, 
it  was  originally  intended  to  be  a  kind  of  congress, 
a  kind  of  Concert  of  these  united  States,  nothing 
more. 

"  Like  other  places  where  the  State  does  not 
exist,  this  country  is  in  a  condition  of  anarchy, 
joyful,  prosperous,  exuberant,  but  still  anarchy. 
The  individual,  or  that  terrible  fictitious  individual, 
the  Corporation,  has  no  check  on  his  appetites. 
It  is  unfortunate  that  their  constitution  was  drawn 
up  by  English  lawyers,  or  men  steeped  in  the 
traditions  of  English  Law.  They  were  content 
to  piece  together  a  working  arrangement  for  the 
moment,  without  inquiring  into  the  past  or  pro- 
viding for  the  future.  They  had  as  few  principles 
as  the  law  they  studied,  no  theory  of  States,  sove- 
reign and  semi-sovereign,  and  their  mutual  re- 
lations in  a  Confederation,  no  scientific  grasp  of 
these  difficult  political  subjects." 

We  had  now  gone  far  on  our  journey  and  were 
soon  to  leave  the  mountains.  At  last  our  ponies 
scrambled  up  among  the  loose  stones  of  a  low 
ridge.  Then,  suddenly,  the  whole  infinite  plain 
stretched  in  front  of  us,  to  the  farthest  reach  of 
sight,  silent  and  motionless  under  the  marble  air. 
It  was  undulated  like  the  sand  of  the  sea-shore, 
as  if  a  great  ocean  had  ebbed  over  it  slowly  in 
gigantic  rollers. 

I  was  familiar  with  the  sight,  and  it  did  not  in- 
terrupt the  train  of  reflections  raised  by  Reinhold's 
explanations.  The  topic  was  an  old  battle-field 

H 


H4  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

between  us,  and  I  was  better  prepared  to  meet  his 
omniscience  on  this  ground  than  on  any  other. 
I  tried  to  reply  to  him — 

"You  are  unfair  to  the  framers  of  the  Consti- 
tution ;  you  will  hardly  deny  that  the  arrangement 
they  drafted  fitted  very  well  the  facts  as  they  then 
existed.  The  thirteen  original  States  were  really 
separate  countries,  with  a  strong  sentiment  of  their 
own,  a  character  and  a  patriotism  of  their  own  ; 
the  proof  of  this  quasi-nationality  still  persists  in 
ordinary  language,  the  most  unimpeachable  wit- 
ness ;  the  substantive  a  Virginian,  for  example, 
means  something.  These  little  countries  would 
not  have  endured  any  interference  stronger  than 
that  which  was  allowed  to  the  original  Federal 
government,  and  it  was  only  with  difficulty  that 
they  could  be  given  even  this  slight  unity ;  as  it 
was,  there  was  so  little  real  union  among  them 
that  no  common  appellation  could  be  found  for 
them  all,  and  to  this  day  this  country  is  nameless ; 
it  is  called  the  United  States  of  America,  which  is 
not  a  name,  but  a  phrase. 

"Circumstances  have  changed  since  then;  but 
why  blame  those  able  men  because  they  did  not 
foresee  the  rapidity  or  the  issue  of  these  changes  ? 
few  of  the  new  States  have  any  of  this  local  nation- 
ality ;  they  have,  as  you  say,  no  real  political  divi- 
sions :  the  word  Wyomingite,  for  example,  unlike 
Virginian,  does  not  exist  because  it  would  have  no 
meaning.  But  it  is  not  just  to  ask  statesmen  to 
pierce  a  century  into  the  future,  or  even  to  look 
forward  much  beyond  their  generation.  How,  for 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  115 

example,  could  they  foresee  the  invention  of  the 
railroads  which  really  hooped  this  country  to- 
gether ?  they  could  not  anticipate,  or  even  specu- 
late upon  this  ultimate  unity  :  and,  if  they  had 
indulged  in  speculation,  they  might  with  reason 
have  guessed  a  different  issue,  separation  and  not 
union.  Unity  was,  after  all,  only  achieved  after 
a  long  struggle,  and  the  greatest  of  civil  wars,  and 
the  flowing  of  torrents  of  blood.  When  this  des- 
tiny became  clear,  these  lawyers  you  despise  have 
applied  themselves  to  the  best  of  their  abilities 
to  remedy  this  great  constitutional  defect,  and,  I 
think,  not  unsuccessfully.  They  have  twisted  and 
turned  the  Constitution  out  of  all  shape  to  suit 
the  new  conditions,  and  given  the  President  and 
the  central  machinery  a  position  that  none  but 
an  English  Common  Law  lawyer  could  call  legal, 
so,  after  their  own  fashion,  making  the  best  of 
an  impossible  situation.  It  is  fortunate  too  they 
are  more  versed  in  the  business  of  the  law  than  in 
its  theories,  more  practitioners  than  jurisconsults : 
otherwise  they  could  never  have  violated  the  clear 
text  of  the  Constitution  with  such  complacency, 
and  put  forward  with  such  simplicity  legal  fictions 
so  gross  and  palpable.  When  President  Cleveland, 
himself  a  lawyer,  marched  Federal  troops  into 
Illinois  to  suppress  the  strikes  without  even  con- 
sulting its  Government — a  proceeding  which  would 
have  inflamed  even  Hamilton  with  indignation — 
and  justified  this  intervention  on  the  grounds  that 
postal  deliveries  in  Chicago  were  delayed  a  few 
hours  by  the  riots,  and  that  the  Constitution  laid 


n6  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

upon  him  the  duty  of  protecting  the  mails,  he 
vindicated  with  brilliance  the  practical  genius  of 
the  English  Law.  It  was  a  splendid  quibble. 
Cleveland,  when  circumstances  required  it,  treated 
the  Sovereign  State  of  Illinois  as  no  more  than  an 
administrative  area,  which  is  what  it  is  not,  and 
himself  and  the  Federal  government  as  the  State, 
which  they  ought  to  be.  He  rode  over  the  anar- 
chists, who  had  the  government  of  Illinois  in  their 
hands,  and  checked  the  excesses  of  their  followers. 
Such  are  the  benefits  mankind  can  derive  from  an 
enlightened  chicanery.  You  may  be  sure,  when- 
ever it  is  necessary,  that  the  Constitution  will 
always  be  violated  with  the  same  statesmanlike 
courage.  So  if  lawyers  have  caused  these  evils, 
they  can  cure  them,  and  they  will.  But  I  am 
glad  that  in  Britain  the  public  business  can  be 
carried  on  without  having  to  resort  to  these 
sophistries." 

As  we  trotted  along,  devils  of  sand  rose  from  the 
ground  and  danced  round  us,  and  vanished  again ; 
the  solitude  of  the  plain  was  only  broken  by  a 
waggon  and  four  horses  afar  off,  diminished  to  the 
size  of  a  nut-shell,  creeping  along  in  a  small  cloud 
of  bright  dust. 

"I  doubt,"  answered  Reinhold,  " whether  you  do 
not  suffer  rather  in  the  same  fashion  and  for  the 
same  reason.  You  boast  of  the  illogical  and  un- 
philosophical  character  of  your  law,  and  other 
institutions,  but  it  inflicts  many  evils  on  you.  For 
if  the  study  of  theories  and  abstractions  is  dis- 
dained, yet  they  are  lavishly  dealt  in  ;  the  Standard 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  117 

Oil,  the  State  of  Wyoming,  the  Union  Pacific  Rail- 
road, the  United  States  of  America,  are  abstract 
personages,  legal  and  fictitious,  different  from  the 
members  who  compose  them,  yet  no  attempt  was 
ever  made  to  distinguish  and  define  these  different 
juridical  concepts,  or  to  fix  their  powers,  functions, 
and  relations.  This  would  be  mere  talk  and  use- 
less, purposeless ;  yet  a  little  more  philosophy 
would  have  been  a  great  deal  more  practical.  A 
Sovereign  State  is  not  a  corporation  that  should  be 
called  into  existence  carelessly,  yet  during  the 
nineteenth  century  they  have  been  turned  out  here 
like  hot  cakes,  and  left  to  find  their  place  in  a  com- 
plicated Federation  for  themselves.  No  provision 
was  ever  made  for  the  likely  occurrence  that  some, 
like  the  Western  States,  would  find  a  Federation 
too  loose,  or  others,  like  the  Southern  States  before 
the  Civil  War,  too  tight.  They  were  left  to  muddle 
it  out  somehow,  and  are  paying  a  heavy  price. 

"  So,  too,  the  English  Law  has  indolently  allowed 
commercial  corporations,  like  Standard  Oil  and  its 
fellow-brigands,  to  come  into  existence  as  easily 
as  human  beings ;  indeed  it  makes  it  easier  to  pro- 
duce these  fictitious  persons  than  real  ones.  Yet 
no  chimera  of  a  diseased  imagination  is  more 
terrible  than  a  corporation  which  has  no  moral 
responsibilities — none  of  the  innumerable  internal 
checks  imposed  on  the  greed  of  a  living  man — no 
conscience,  no  morals,  no  soul  to  damn  and  no 
body  to  kick.  To  let  loose  these  monsters  un- 
regulated and  in  troops  into  civilised  society  was  a 
terrible  deed,  and  some  of  them  have  swollen  and 


n8  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

grown  to  such  a  size  that  all  have  now  realised  it. 
The  Roman  Law,  more  profound  and  conscious, 
shrunk  with  horror  at  the  idea  of  such  legal  mon- 
strosities, and  sternly  supressed  even  an  innocent 
corporation  of  Bithynian  firemen." 

I  could  not  make  out  quite  what  Reinhold  was 
driving  at,  and  I  was  out  of  my  depths  in  these 
philosophical  considerations,  but  I  asked — 

"Then  why  don't  we  suffer  from  the  same  kind 
of  thing  in  England,  if  all  this  is  the  fault  of  the 
English  Law  ?  " 

This  question  gave  him  a  fresh  impetus ;  he 
replied — 

"  On  the  contrary ;  you  do  much  worse.  Your 
contempt  for  political  philosophy  is  deeper,  and 
the  results  far  more  glaring.  You  have  yourself 
committed  exactly  the  same  mistake,  though  with 
less  excuse,  for  its  consequences  were  visible  over 
here  if  you  had  cared  to  look  at  them.  Your 
Empire,  like  this  one,  is  also  a  Confederation,  an 
aggregate  of  corporations  ;  when  you  gave  your 
colonies  self-government  you  made  them  into  sove- 
reign corporations,  and  your  politicians  similarly 
neglected  to  provide  the  means  by  which  the  unity 
of  the  Confederation  could  be  increased,  if  its 
members  required  it.  With  a  greater  knowledge 
of  the  past  and  the  greater  prescience  of  the  future 
it  gives,  they  could  easily  have  made  provisions  for 
this  contingency;  now  it  is  almost  impossible  to 
change  the  existing  relations.  So  you  are  exactly 
in  the  same  difficulty  ;  the  obstacles  to  closer  union 
everywhere  are  due  to  want  of  science  in  your 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  119 

schemes.  Both  countries  would  have  avoided  this, 
and  many  other  evils,  if  they  had  had  a  proper 
theory  of  corporations,  public  and  private." 

"Oh  !  oh  !"  I  objected,  "a  defective  jurispruden- 
tial  theory  like  that  cannot  make  all  that  difference. 
You  exaggerate  ;  it  is  impossible." 

"  I  don't,"  was  his  reply.     "  It  has  inflicted  end- 
less harm  on  you.    It  has  made  the  great  revolution 
you  have  attempted  in  England  in  the  last  quarter 
of  a  century,  and  next  to  which  most  of  your  poli- 
tical changes  are  trifling,  an  almost  entire  failure ;  by 
that  revolution  I  mean  that  entire  change  in  your 
method  of  local  government  and  its  transference  to 
elective  bodies,   corporations   again.      At  random 
and   in  swarms    you   created   taxing   and    spend- 
ing corporations — scores  and  thousands  of  them — 
without    troubling   to    define,    adjust,    or    control 
them.     To  these  natural  prodigals,  unions,  muni- 
cipal councils,  school  boards,  guardians,  burial  and 
local  boards,  highway  committees,  boards  of  health, 
county   councils,   lighting   committees,  water  and 
paving  boards,  sanitary  authorities,  boards  of  works, 
pier     commissioners,    common    councils,    asylum 
boards,   and  many   others,   you  opened  wide  the 
purse    of    the   citizen :    in   the   last  quarter  of    a 
century  they  have  taken  more  out  of  his  pocket 
than   it  took  to   defeat   Napoleon.      You   carried 
your  contempt  of  logic  and  theory  so  far  that  in 
some   places   an   Englishman   could   be   taxed  by 
thirty-five  separate  local  authorities.     Yet  with  a 
little  more  reflection,  a  clearer  definition,  a  more 
exact  control  of  these  public  corporations,  more  of 


120  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

this  jurisprudential  theorising  you  despise,  and  this 
result  would  have  been  avoided.  You  would  have 
realised  that  fictitious,  irresponsible,  unregulated 
persons  ought  not  to  be  called  to  life  so  carelessly: 
but  to  what  extravagances  will  not  the  passion  for 
being  practical  lead  you  ?  There  are  more  curious 
things  in  your  history  than  the  disorders  of  your 
local  government.  For  more  than  a  century  you 
left  the  rule  of  India — of  a  whole  continent  of 
hundreds  of  millions  of  men,  of  many  races  and 
religions — in  the  hands  of  a  trading  company ; 
allowed  a  whole  empire,  as  if  it  was  a  grocery,  to 
be  run  by  a  board  of  directors.  To  permit  a  com- 
mercial trust  like  Standard  Oil  to  grow  into  an 
independent  kingdom  is  surely  less  fantastic  than 
deliberately  to  leave  a  continent  of  kingdoms  in 
the  hands  of  a  body  of  merchants  like  the  East 
India  Company." 

Darkness  was  now  swallowing  up  the  plain,  and 
a  cold  wind  met  us.  Magdalena,  still  distant,  began 
to  light  its  lights  ;  our  brave  little  ponies  seemed  to 
guess  the  goal  was  near,  and  moved  with  fresh 
alacrity. 


CHAPTER  VI 

I  HAVE  been  staying  for  a  few  days  on  the  T.  ]. 
Ranch  belonging  to  a  wealthy  American,  which  en- 
joyed some  of  the  comforts  and  amenities  of  life — 
sheets,  pictures  on  the  wall,  jugs  and  basins,  a 
pianola,  and  even  a  telephone  whose  wire,  flung 
across  the  mountains  for  scores  of  miles,  con- 
nected him  with  town.  Two  other  ranches  had 
taken  advantage  of  this  last  great  convenience  to 
fix  themselves  on  this  long  wire  too.  One  was  an 
active  centre  of  life,  the  other  was  deserted  by  its 
owner  except  when  he  used  it  as  a  hunting  centre. 
In  his  absence  it  was  occupied  by  an  old  man, 
wizened  and  ugly,  with  a  wooden  leg,  whose  duty 
it  was  to  guard  it  from  thieving  Mexicans.  His 
real  name,  as  with  most  of  the  other  people  in 
the  country,  was  unknown  to  me,  but  his  Christian 
name  was  George ;  according  to  the  fixed  ways 
of  cowpunchers  in  the  case  of  a  wooden-legged 
man,  the  prefix  of  Peg-leg  was  given  to  George. 
The  ragged  old  creature  had  been  born  in  England, 
and  even  remembered  having  seen  the  Derby ;  he 
consequently  acknowledged  me  as  a  compatriot, 
and  would  hail  me  whenever  I  rode  past  his  place, 
which  lay  not  far  from  T.  J.'s.  Debasement  was 
stamped  upon  all  his  features,  and  he  had  an  evil 


122  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

air,  which  even  his  appearance  of  weakness  and 
poverty  could  not  dissipate.  But  Peg-leg  George 
was  cordial,  and  always  offered  me  some  of  the 
large  and  exquisite  grapes  which  grew  on  the 
place  and  which  did  not  belong  to  him.  I  was 
not  insensible  of  these  merits. 

The  foreman  of  the  T.  J.'s  had  asked  me  to 
"hold  it  down"  by  myself  as  the  outfit  were  away 
on  the  "  round  up."  So  I  was  alone,  except  when 
a  traveller  made  the  place  a  stage  for  the  night. 
To  my  great  pleasure  a  United  States  officer  en- 
gaged on  a  military  survey  of  the  country  had 
halted  there.  After  the  boorish  ways  of  the  cow- 
punchers,  his  company,  though  he  had  no  great 
distinction,  seemed  exquisite.  The  choicest  con- 
versation, the  most  polished  manners,  had  never 
given  me  greater  pleasure.  Further,  a  prospector 
had  asked  me  if  he  could  stop  there  a  short  time, 
till  his  horse  had  regained  his  strength  ;  he  was 
welcome  too,  for  he  was  interesting ;  a  man  of 
superior  intelligence  who  had  used  as  much  as  he 
could  the  opportunities  for  education  his  country 
lavishly  places  before  the  poor.  His  determination 
was  to  succeed,  and  emerge  from  his  own  level 
of  life.  He  had  tried  every  road,  and  his  versatility 
rose  above  even  the  high  Western  level,  but  though 
he  had  by  now  gone  half-way  across  life,  wealth 
was  still  out  of  his  reach.  He  had  fixed  his  ambi- 
tion on  a  gold-mine,  and  was  now  engaged  in  the 
fascinating  pursuit  of  prospecting  for  gold,  wander- 
ing alone  in  the  mountains  with  his  horse  and 
Winchester,  poring  over  the  rocks  and  the  streams. 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  123 

I  had  once  met  him  before  and  was  attracted  by 
his  eloquence,  for,  unlike  most  men  of  his  kind, 
he  could  tell  with  art  the  episodes  of  his  Odyssey. 

We  three  were  alone  at  the  T.  J.'s  and  had,  after 
the  work  of  the  day,  gone  to  our  beds  soon  after 
the  sun.  In  the  depth  of  the  night  I  was  suddenly 
awakened  by  the  telephone-bell  ringing  convulsively 
again  and  again.  The  sound  was  so  wild  that  not 
only  did  I  get  out  of  my  bed  and  run  to  the  tele- 
phone, but  the  officer  and  the  prospector  did  the 
same.  I  took  down  the  receiver  and  halloa'ed,  and 
heard  a  despairing  voice  say — 

"  For  God's  sake  come  and  help  me." 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  It's  me,"  the  voice  answered,  "  Peg-leg  George." 

I  was  astonished,  and  said — 

"  What  are  you  ringing  up  for  at  this  time  of  the 
night  ?  " 

He  repeated  his  urgent  appeal,  and  added — 

"  I  have  killed  a  Mexican  and  I  want  to  get  away." 

In  spite  of  the  danger  and  the  acuteness  of  the 
crisis,  my  personal  knowledge  of  George  led  me  to 
say  instantly  — 

"  George,  are  you  drunk  ?  " 

But  he  was  in  too  great  a  distress  of  mind  to 
take  offence  at  my  sincere  and  spontaneous  ques- 
tion, and  he  told  us  in  a  broken  and  distracted 
voice  what  had  happened  to  him.  The  obscurity 
of  his  account  was  increased  by  the  defective  state 
of  the  telephone.  Peg-leg  George  entertained,  as 
I  knew,  hostile  relations  with  one  or  two  Mexican 
families  living  higher  up  the  river,  poor  peons 


124  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

escaped  from  the  quasi-slavery  of  Mexico,  wretches 
who,  in  their  rickety  cabins,  lived  miserably  off 
a  patch  of  corn  and  beans.  George  despised 
them,  for  he  was  poor,  and  they  were  poorer, 
and  he  assumed  besides  a  true  Texan  insolence 
toward  a  man  of  another  colour.  He  was  full 
of  the  confidence  given  him  by  the  possession 
of  firearms,  which  they  had  not.  George,  on  the 
other  hand,  stumping  about  on  his  wooden  leg 
with  his  evil  face,  did  not  inspire  them  with  re- 
spect, and  their  inclinations  were  predatory.  This 
I  knew,  for  often  when  I  had  stopped  to  speak  to 
him  as  I  had  rode  by,  he  would  complain  about 
them  in  a  wheezy  tone  and  use  threats.  He  was 
a  boaster,  and  the  cowpunchers  hit  on  this  char- 
acteristic in  the  story  they  told  of  how  this  little 
old  man,  whenever  he  went  to  town,  used  to  stalk 
armed  into  a  saloon  and  shout  in  the  style  of  the 
old-time  bad  man  :  "I  am  Rattlesnake  George ; 
line  up  to  the  bar!"  It  was  likely  that  he  and 
his  neighbours  would  come  to  blows  some  day. 

His  story  through  the  telephone  was  not  con- 
nected, but  he  was  not  very  audible.  We  gathered 
that  a  party  of  Mexicans  had  come  to  his  house, 
and  that  after  a  dispute  he  had  shot  one.  The 
causes  and  the  incidents  of  the  fight  we  could  not 
penetrate  in  the  midst  of  his  terror  and  despair,  but 
his  excitement  to  get  away  was  overmastering  and 
justifiable.  The  other  Mexicans,  he  declared,  had 
gone  off  to  collect  their  friends  and  would  be  back 
some  time  that  night  to  avenge  the  victim.  He  was 
single  and  almost  helpless,  and  he  implored  me 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  125 

to  bring  him  a  horse.  He  had  but  one  old  jade 
who  was  out  loose  on  the  hill  and  impossible  to  find 
in  the  dark.  With  his  wooden  leg  he  could  not 
hope  to  retreat  in  that  vast  country  by  walking  : 
at  daylight  the  Mexicans  on  horseback  certainly 
would  take  up  his  trail  like  sleuth-hounds  and 
overtake  him  immediately.  He  realised  his  only 
hope  of  safety  lay  in  reaching  an  American  county, 
as  he  told  us  through  the  'phone.  There  he  would 
be  safe.  This  was  a  lucid  reflection  on  his  part, 
and  destroyed  my  still  lingering  suspicions  of  his 
sobriety,  but  it  requires  explanation.  The  T.  J. 
Ranch  lay  in  a  Mexican  county,  that  is  to  say,  the 
majority  of  the  elected  officials  were  Mexicans. 
The  corruption  which  in  most  of  America  is  an 
integral  part  of  the  political  institutions  has  been 
adopted  by  the  Mexicans  with  the  rest  of  the 
American  system.  With  the  naivete"  of  the  Indian, 
and  perhaps  the  logic  of  the  Latin,  the  Mexicans 
had  carried  the  principle  one  step  further.  The 
politicians  in  an  American  county  recouped  them- 
selves in  office  for  the  contribution  they  had  made 
to  their  party  funds,  a  rule  the  evil  of  which  is 
much  diminished  in  practice.  They  gave  the  public 
a  tolerable  amount  of  fair,  if  expensive  government. 
But  the  Mexican  politicians  were  not  content  either 
to  take  as  little  or  to  give  as  much ;  mere  embezzle- 
ment and  bribery  was  too  poor  a  return  for  their 
efforts.  They  were  uncompromising,  and  carried 
the  principle  to  its  conclusion  with  mathematical 
rigour,  and  the  successful  party  appropriated  and 
divided  the  totality  of  the  proceeds  of  local  taxa- 


126  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

tion,  which  was  heavy  to  a  degree  unparalleled  to 
my  knowledge.  This  application  of  public  money 
left  little  or  nothing  to  spare  for  schools,  or  roads, 
or  any  work  of  public  utility.  Even  the  sittings 
of  the  courts  were  suspended  for  periods  of  years 
for  want  of  funds.  Thus  the  peril  which  overhung 
George  was  double.  The  Mexicans  might  return 
properly  equipped  and  exact  an  immediate  and 
bloody  settlement  from  George.  On  the  other 
hand,  they  might  take  the  more  dreadful  resolution 
of  observing  the  forms  of  the  law,  and,  fetching  a 
Mexican  deputy-sheriff,  duly  arrest  him.  This  was 
a  still  worse  fate  in  prospect.  His  destiny  would 
be,  unless  his  friends  could  collect  the  money  to 
obtain  his  release  from  the  authorities,  to  languish 
in  a  foul  prison,  untried  for  years,  till  he  died  of 
fever,  or,  if  he  got  a  trial,  to  be  dragged  before 
some  partial  Mexican  jury  impanelled  by  a  hostile 
Mexican  sheriff.  From  the  dangers  of  murder, 
and  the  still  greater  danger  of  arrest,  he  would 
be  secure  if  he  reached  some  neighbouring  white 
man's  country,  into  which  neither  the  avengers 
of  blood  nor  the  Mexican  police  would  presume 
to  follow  him.  I  almost  thought  I  could  hear  the 
sobs  in  his  voice  through  the  telephone  as  he 
reiterated  his  request  for  a  horse. 

After  a  short  consultation  we  decided  to  go  to  his 
assistance.  Custom  had  hardened  us  against  the 
inconvenience  of  a  broken  night,  but  we  were  not 
altogether  pleased. 

The  officer  said— 

"  It  is  a  nuisance,  but  we  may  have  some  fun." 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  127 

The  prospector  remarked — 

"  Why  can't  they  have  their  ranch  held  down  by 
some  son-of-a-gun  with  more  sense  than  that." 

We  dressed,  and,  at  his  suggestion,  taking  our 
Winchesters  with  us,  we  clattered  across  the 
wooden  veranda  into  the  open  air.  A  heavy  wrack 
of  clouds  was  rolling  across  the  sky,  and  the  light 
of  the  large  open  space  in  front  of  the  ranch  was 
dim.  A  number  of  our  horses  were  in  a  corral  which 
had  troughs  of  hay  at  the  side.  We  each  caught 
one  and  saddled  in  the  dark ;  I  also  selected  for 
Peg-leg  George  a  horse  of  my  own  which  was  in  a 
condition  to  go  far  and  fast,  and  made  with  a  rope 
an  impromptu  halter  to  lead  him. 

George's  habitation  lay  some  miles  up  the  river. 
The  Gila,  already  a  considerable  stream,  here  rolled 
with  many  turnings  in  a  winding  and  typical 
canyon.  Both  the  sides  of  the  canyon  rose  up 
plumb  straight,  like  houses  on  each  side  of  the 
street,  sometimes  separating  to  make  the  canyon  as 
broad  as  a  boulevard,  sometimes  closing  to  make  it 
a  narrow  lane.  These  sheer  cliffs  reached  far  up. 
Their  yellow  and  red  colour,  and  the  fantastic 
shapes  into  which  their  tops  were  worn,  gave  them 
an  uncouth  appearance  even  in  the  light  of  day ; 
they  not  distantly  resembled  savage  Aztec  idols, 
smeared  with  yellow  ochre  and  blood,  from  whose 
tops  hundreds  of  captives  were  hurled  into  the 
void,  while  naked  priests  howled  and  slashed  them- 
selves with  knives.  At  night  they  looked  even 
more  grim.  Riding  at  the  bottom  of  this  deep 
funnel  we  could  see  little  in  the  darkness  but  their 


128  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

gloomy  outlines  and  the  hurrying  press  of  clouds. 
At  our  sides  ran  the  swift  glimmering  waters  of  the 
Gila,  and  their  sound  rang  in  our  ears ;  at  intervals 
we  crossed  and  re-crossed  it,  for  it  swung  from  side 
to  side  in  its  narrow  passage.  Fortunately  the  safe 
crossings,  often  traversed  by  day,  were  familiar  to 
me  and  my  own  horses,  to  show  the  way.  But 
even  with  this  example  there  was  some  hesitation  on 
the  part  of  my  companions'  horses,  rightly  wary  of 
quicksands  in  unknown  places,  to  descend  into  the 
dark  rushing  flood  that  came  up  to  their  shoulders. 

At  length,  and  it  must  have  been  past  midnight, 
we  reached  a  sudden  bend  of  the  canyon,  on  the 
other  side  of  which  lay  the  scattered  buildings 
occupied  by  George.  In  our  youthful  imprudence 
the  officer  and  myself  were  hastening  to  round  it, 
but  the  prospector  checked  us.  He  was  a  man  of 
experience,  and  pointed  out  the  evident  risk  of  our 
action.  The  return  of  the  Mexicans  was  expected 
by  George,  and  they  were  coming  from  the  same 
direction  as  we.  The  sound  of  horses  and  voices 
coming  up  the  stream  would  put  him  on  his  guard, 
and  he  might  not  in  his  fear  be  able  to  make 
distinctions ;  one  of  us  or  our  horses  would  be 
hurt  before  we  could  identify  ourselves.  However, 
George  knew  my  voice ;  so,  straining  my  lungs  to 
the  utmost,  I  shouted  to  him  repeatedly.  After 
some  time,  receiving  no  answer,  we  moved  forward 
again,  separating  our  group  to  offer  less  of  a  target. 

The  ranch  had  been  built  without  much  judg- 
ment at  a  point  where  the  canyon  broadened,  but 
not  sufficiently  to  allow  the  proper  amount  of 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  129 

space.  In  this  cramped  room  several  buildings 
and  outhouses  huddled  together.  Their  black 
masses  now  rose  before  us,  but  no  human  being 
came  to  meet  us.  We  shouted  again  and  again. 
No  light  shone,  nothing  moved.  A  solemn  silence 
reigned  over  the  whole  scene. 

We  dismounted.  Our  perplexity  was  great,  and 
we  felt  some  apprehension.  The  desertion,  or  the 
apparent  desertion  of  the  ranch  was  inexplicable, 
and  under  the  circumstances  might  well  alarm  us. 
What  had  become  of  Peg-leg  George  ?  He  had 
certainly  telephoned  to  us  from  this  very  place  not 
much  more  than  an  hour  ago.  Had  he  given  way 
to  his  fears  before  our  arrival,  and  fled  under  cover 
of  the  dark  to  hide  in  the  thickets  ?  In  that  case  he 
would  not  be  far  off,  and  he  would  have  given  us 
some  sign  in  return.  If  he  was  still  on  the  ranch, 
the  silence  was  ominous.  We  might  be  too  late. 
Besides,  those  dark  buildings  might  conceal  an 
ambush,  to  which  its  corners  and  recesses  were 
very  favourable.  The  noise  we  had  made  as  a 
signal  to  Peg-leg  George  was  a  warning  to  the 
Mexicans.  They  had  had  time  to  prepare,  and 
that  blank  darkness  might  conceal  a  trap  into  which 
we  should  fall  on  entering  the  yard.  Still,  we  could 
not  in  honour  turn  back;  George's  own  life,  of 
little  value  as  it  was,  was  perhaps  ebbing  out  there 
slowly  from  the  gash  of  some  Mexican  knife. 

In  this  situation  the  nerves  of  the  officer,  and 
certainly  my  own,  were  tense  with  excitement, 
agitation  of  a  kind  which,  though  it  shoots  you 
like  an  arrow  to  the  mark,  if  that  mark  is  clear,  is 

I 


130  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

neither  resourceful  nor  ingenious.  The  prospector 
was  reflective  and  collected,  and  while  we  stood 
wavering,  with  veteran  coolness  lifted  his  corpulent 
person  into  the  saddle  and  said — 

"  Let's  pull  our  freight.     If  these  Mexican  sons- 
of-guns  are  here,  we'll  get  at  them  another  way/' 

We  yielded  to  his  command  without  question, 
and  followed  him  back  some  distance  clattering 
over  the  stony  bed  of  the  canyon  the  way  we 
had  come.  This  was  his  plan,  which  he  unfolded 
to  us.  As  being  acquainted  with  the  ground,  and 
qualified  as  a  guide,  I  was  to  return  with  him  on 
foot,  making  a  wide  circuit,  and  approaching  the 
ranch  by  the  back.  If  a  plot  lay  hidden,  our  ap- 
proach would  take  the  plotters  by  surprise,  and 
from  an  unexpected  quarter.  The  officer  was  to 
remain,  so  to  speak,  in  reserve,  within  hearing,  and 
holding  the  horses.  If  we  were  hurt  or  worsted 
he  could  ride  back,  and  along  the  telephone  wire 
summon  from  town  medical  and  armed  assistance 
which  would  reach  us  before  midday.  We  left 
our  Winchesters  behind,  as  being  awkward  and 
cumbersome  in  rooms  and  passages.  The  pro- 
spector, who  had  not  brought  any  other  weapon, 
borrowed  the  long  service-revolver  of  the  officer 
and  filled  his  pockets  with  cartridges.  I  had  dang- 
ling at  my  side  the  common  Colt  '45,  admirable  in 
the  simplicity  of  its  mechanism,  the  convenience 
of  its  size,  and  its  formidable  carnage  of  six  bullets 
as  big  as  a  thumb.  Acting  on  his  advice  and  fol- 
lowing his  example,  I  cocked  and  uncocked  it  to 
see  its  workings  turned  smoothly  :  I  also  took 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  131 

off  my  long  spurs,  which  I  had  mechanically  put 
on  with  my  boots  and  which  were  likely  to  trip  me, 
and  hung  them  on  my  saddle-horn. 

The  circuit  we  were  obliged  to  make  was  long 
and  uneven,  and  involved  getting  out  of  the  canyon 
to  enter  it  again  farther  up.  In  the  glimmering 
light  we  scrambled  up  the  narrow  trail  that  crept 
along  the  face  of  the  cliff,  up  rocky  slopes,  through 
embarrassing  thickets  of  oak  and  juniper,  and  we 
stumbled  down  again  on  similar  ground.  As  soon 
as  his  direction  was  clear  my  fat  companion  led 
me,  for  his  business  inured  him  to  walking,  while 
I  had  lately  affected  to  a  degree  of  extravagance 
the  cowpuncher's  habit  of  being  on  horseback  for 
every  purpose.  As  we  drew  near  again  from 
the  other  side  to  the  lifeless,  mysterious  ranch 
we  moderated  our  pace.  Touching  his  shoulder, 
I  silently  pointed  out  to  him  with  my  hand  the 
place  where  a  spur  of  the  hill  was  thrown  out, 
covered  with  thickets,  almost  up  to  the  main 
building.  He  understood  me  and  nodded,  and 
began  creeping  slowly  and  with  care  in  that 
direction. 

In  spite  of  our  attention  we  could  not  avoid 
disturbing  stones,  in  our  heavy  cumbersome  boots, 
as  we  moved  along  the  slope  of  the  rough  and 
stony  soil.  The  sullen  and  muffled  voice  of  the 
river,  murmuring  against  the  sides  of  the  canyon, 
perhaps  prevented  the  Mexicans  hidden  in  the 
ranch  from  hearing  us,  but  even  if  they  had,  they 
gained  no  advantage.  The  darkness,  which  had 
concealed  them,  now  concealed  us  as  well.  Indeed, 


132  A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

I  realised  that  we  now  occupied  the  superior 
position.  I  had  a  perfect  confidence  in  the  ability 
of  my  companion  with  the  weapon  he  carried.  A 
few  days  before,  as  he  had  got  off  his  horse  to 
arrange  a  barbed-wire  gate,  I  had  looked  up  and 
seen  two  grey  squirrels,  with  immense  bushy  tails 
and  vivacious  black  eyes,  on  the  high  branch  of  a 
cotton-wood  tree  ;  I  had  remarked  upon  them,  and 
almost  before  I  had  finished  speaking  he  had 
brought  them  down  with  his  pistol,  shattered  and 
dead.  The  flash  of  the  first  Mexican  shot  would 
fatally  betray  their  position  to  him,  while  we  re- 
mained invisible,  or  at  least  obscure  and  uncertain. 
As  for  myself,  regarding  my  marksmanship  with 
full  and  justifiable  mistrust,  I  was  determined  to 
reserve  my  fire  till  I  had  something  of  the  dimen- 
sions of  a  haystack  within  point-blank  distance. 
Our  offensive  too,  with  its  freedom  of  movement, 
relieved  our  nerves.  The  prolonged,  confined  de- 
fensive on  which  our  opponents  were  kept  would 
be  a  strain  to  unsteady  them  in  the  dark,  unreliable 
marksmen  and  inaccurate  as  Mexicans  always  are, 
being  too  poor  to  buy  cartridges  to  practise. 

Our  approach  was  undetected,  or  at  least  no 
change  of  position  on  their  part  was  audible  to  us. 
The  scene  before  us  remained  as  motionless  and 
as  inscrutable  as  before.  The  prospector  had 
now  reached  the  end  of  the  covert,  along  which 
we  had  stalked.  In  front,  between  him  and  the 
main  buildings,  lay  an  open  flat  space,  now 
moderately  well  lighted,  for  the  sky  had  cleared. 
Rising  suddenly  and  pulling  his  gun,  he  moved 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  133 

across  it  swiftly  to  the  wall  of  the  main  building, 
along  which  he  began  to  creep  stealthily.  He 
was  unattacked,  and  after  a  few  moments  I 
followed  his  example  with  the  same  impunity. 
With  circumspection  and  care  we  tried  every  door 
and  window  ;  but  it  was  entirely  closed,  and  ap- 
parently unoccupied.  After  using  the  same  pru- 
dence on  some  outhouses  and  barns  and  obtaining 
no  other  result,  we  grew  more  careless  and  began 
kicking  at  the  doors  and  shaking  the  windows 
and  shouting  for  Peg-leg  George.  Hearing  us, 
where  he  had  been  waiting  for  the  delivery  of  our 
scientific  attack,  the  officer  joined  us,  leading  our 
horses.  There  could  be  no  doubt  that  the  Mexicans 
were  not  in  occupation  of  the  ranch,  but  the 
existence  of  George  and  his  whereabouts  was  as 
much  a  problem  as  ever.  His  sudden  disap- 
pearance, after  that  wild  outcry  on  the  telephone, 
wore  a  sinister  air,  and  we  could  not  resolve 
ourselves  to  go  "away  without  finding  a  solution. 
So  we  continued  our  clamour  and  researches,  and 
the  prospector  poured  with  easy  fluency  a  stream 
of  invective  on  George  and  his  parentage  calcu- 
lated to  touch  him  even  if  he  had  been  dispatched 
to  the  other  world.  We  determined  at  last  to  defer 
our  search  for  his  body  till  day.  To  look  for  it  in 
that  absence  of  light  was  useless,  and  we  prepared 
to  take  our  departure.  The  officer  had  already 
mounted  his  horse,  when  I  thought  I  heard,  inside 
a  small  closed  cabin,  a  low  moan.  The  door  was 
locked  and  I  listened  at  it  intently.  I  thought  I 
heard  it  again,  and  communicated  my  impression 


134  A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

to  the  others.  They  joined  me  and  put  their  ears 
to  the  door.  There  could  be  no  doubt  that  there 
was  a  human  being  within.  A  low  moan,  like  that 
of  a  feverish  delirium,  was  now  quite  distinct. 

The  officer  asked — 

"Who  is  that  in  there?" 

He  received  no  answer,  neither  did  the  pros- 
pector who  addressed  him  in  Spanish.  The 
wounded  man  seemed  insensible  or  too  weak 
to  speak.  We  could  still  without  interruption 
hear  his  sighs  and  heavy  breathing.  As  the  door 
was  locked  from  the  inside,  we  decided  to  break 
it  open  to  assist  him,  whoever  it  was,  who  found 
himself  in  so  strange  a  position,  and  we  had  begun 
to  look  for  a  beam  when  we  heard  the  man  drag 
himself  with  difficulty  and  effort  to  the  door.  He 
groped  and  fumbled  at  the  key,  groaning,  but  at 
length  unbolted  it.  The  door  was  pushed  open, 
and  there  against  its  stile  leaned  George,  untidy, 
dishevelled,  but  showing  us  at  once  by  his  slob- 
bering and  relaxed  features  that  he  was  very 
drunk. 

We  were  relieved  and  might  have  been  amused 
at  the  unconscious  trick  played  on  us,  if  Peg-leg 
George's  debased  features  had  been  less  repulsive. 
As  I  knew  him  I  spoke  to  him,  and  sharply,  but 
could  get  no  coherent  remarks  from  him.  He 
talked  on  in  a  vinous,  irrelevant  babble.  At  length 
I  said  to  him — 

"  What  about  that  Mexican  you  shot  ?  what  is 
the  meaning  of  it  ?  " 

This  seemed  to  put  some  light  into  his  clouded 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  135 

mind,  and  he  repeated  to  us  what  he  had  spoken 
through  the  telephone  with  the  same  vehemence, 
though,  if  that  instrument  had  not  been  in  defec- 
tive order,  we  would  have  detected  in  his  voice  and 
superfluous  sibilants  of  his  speech  decisive  proof 
of  his  condition.  He  explained  that  some  Mexicans 
driving  by  in  a  waggon  had  taunted  him,  and  that 
he  had  shot  one  with  his  shot-gun.  In  his  condition 
it  was  not  improbable. 

I  asked — 

"  Where  is  he,  this  Mexican  of  yours  ?  " 

He  yelled  with  an  oath — 

"  He's  in  the  corral ;  he's  lying  in  the  corral." 

All  our  philanthropic  feelings  had  so  far  been 
wasted  on  George,  and  it  was  time  to  spend  some 
of  them  on  his  victim.  In  the  cabin,  on  the  table, 
lay  a  demijohn  of  whisky,  and  leaning  against  it 
was  a  huge  repeating  shot-gun,  but  there  was  also 
a  lantern  which,  at  the  suggestion  of  the  pros- 
pector, I  lighted  to  assist  me  in  finding  the  corpse. 
The  officer  stayed,  holding  the  horse,  and  the 
prospector  guarding  George.  I  had  gone  half- 
way to  the  corral  to  carry  out  my  investigations 
when  I  was  seized  with  misgivings.  The  victim 
might  not  be  quite  dead,  and,  after  lying  in  the 
cold  with  a  charge  of  shot  in  him,  venomous  and 
still  able  to  sting.  He  might  not  do  justice  to  my 
motives,  or  be  able  to  distinguish  between  myself 
and  his  murderer.  For  the  second  time  in  that 
night  of  peril  I  drew  my  gun  and,  stepping  slowly, 
threw  the  light  of  the  lantern  carefully  in  front  and 
around  me  as  I  advanced.  My  circumspection  and 


136  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

my  charitable  intentions  were  alike  lost.  The 
corral,  diligently  examined  by  me,  was  empty  and 
undisturbed. 

I  returned  to  the  group  in  a  state  of  irritation. 
Being  resident  at  the  T.  J.'s  I  was  the  virtual  host 
of  the  officer  and  the  prospector,  and  that  their 
night  should  have  been  destroyed  by  the  folly  of 
this  dotard  annoyed  me.  Resentment  at  having 
been  duped  before  them  increased  my  annoyance. 
Peg-leg  was  sitting  at  the  table  inside  the  dark 
cabin  with  his  head  in  his  hands,  moaning.  I  told 
the  others  there  was  nothing  in  the  corral,  and  that 
we  had  better  go  home ;  then  putting  the  lantern 
on  the  ground,  in  front  of  the  door,  I  strode  into 
the  cabin,  seized  the  demijohn,  and  said — 

"  George,  I  am  going  to  take  this  away  from  you. 
You  have  given  us  too  much  trouble  with  it  to- 
night." 

My  motives  in  doing  this  were  mixed ;  irritation 
formed  part  of  them,  and  I  wished  to  prevent  old 
Peg-leg  from  further  besotting  himself.  In  his 
frenzy  he  might  set  fire  to  the  ranch,  or  commit 
any  other  kind  of  outrage ;  but  the  prospective 
loss  of  his  treasured  bottle  roused  him  from  the 
tearful  lethargy  which  had  come  over  him,  to  a 
paroxysm  of  fury.  At  the  sight  of  his  anger  the 
others  were  of  opinion  that  I  had  better  restore 
it  to  him,  and  I  had  put  it  down  on  the  ground  next 
to  the  lamp  outside,  wavering  what  to  do.  We  were 
standing  in  front  of  the  door  when  Peg-leg,  his 
little  face  convulsed  by  rage,  appeared  at  the  door 
of  the  cabin  with  his  huge  shot-gun,  and  yelled — 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  137 

"  I'll  shoot  the  guts  out  of  you,"  and  lifted  his 
weapon  to  do  so. 

I  was  on  one  side  of  the  door,  and  my  com- 
panions on  the  other.  As  he  stepped  out  he 
turned  towards  them,  threatening  them  with  the 
muzzle.  With  promptitude  they  vanished  round 
the  corner  of  the  cabin.  George  had  his  back  to 
me,  and  his  bleary  eyes,  coming  out  of  the  dark, 
were  dazzled  by  the  sudden  rays  of  the  lamp.  He 
did  not  see  me  for  the  moment,  as  he  stood  blink- 
ing his  venomous  little  eyes,  but  I  had  no  intention 
of  giving  him  the  chance  to  put  his  menaces  into 
execution,  or  satisfy  his  drunken  vindictiveness  on 
our  innocent  horses,  who  were  standing  in  front 
of  him.  Diving  at  his  ankles  I  brought  him  prone 
to  the  ground,  and  without  much  effort  wrested 
his  vast  gun  from  him.  As  he  lay  blubbering  and 
foul-mouthed,  I  opened  the  formidable  weapon 
from  which  we  had  had  so  narrow  an  escape,  and 
found  it  was,  and  always  had  been,  quite  empty. 

The  T.  ].  Ranch  lies  where  the  high  walls  of  the 
canyon  separate  suddenly  and  surround  a  large 
plain,  a  vast  circus  in  which  armies  might  shock 
for  the  amusement  of  giants  lolling  on  the  lofty 
cliffs.  As  we  rode  back  into  it  from  our  night  of 
adventure,  the  western  masses  of  rock  were  emerg- 
ing from  the  shadows,  and  the  first  sweet  breath  of 
the  morning  was  in  the  air. 

"  The  breeze  that  on  the  Gila  falls 
The  sweet  and  placid  Thames  recalls, 
Where  willows  dip  their  ruffling  leaves 
By  golden  fields  of  piled  sheaves. 


138  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

I  wish  I  were  back  in  a  boat, 

To  let  it  on  the  current  float, 

And  slowly  drifting  to  move  under 

The  grassy  bank  ;  the  pleasant  thunder 

That  rises  from  the  falling  weir 

I  can  in  the  far  distance  hear, 

The  rattling  rowlocks'  even  ring 

As  swift,  with  oars  spread  on  the  wing 

An  eight  comes  shooting  round  the  bend, 

Sped  on  its  course  by  many  a  friend. 

Now  must  the  Oxford  summer  gladden 

Quadrangle  broad  and  flowered  garden, 

The  cawing  rooks  mark  the  slow  hours, 

The  growing  shades  creep  o'er  the  flowers. 

Oh  might  I  on  the  turf  at  ease 

Lie  by  the  friendly  chestnut  trees, 

Familiar  trees,  whose  leaves  among 

Human  fruit  has  often  hung, 

While  above  the  high  black  tower 

The  silVry  moon  has  watched  her  hour 

Till  our  conversation  loud 

Made  her  hide  behind  a  cloud, 

To  call  to  mind  those  pleasant  years, 

Half  in  joy  and  half  in  tears  ! 


When  rains  upon  the  pavement  beat, 
And  fogs  that  fill  the  murky  street 
The  air  a  gloomy  dungeon  make, 
A  sudden  journey  I  would  take 
To  where  thy  waters,  Gila,  run. 
Thy  cloudless  skies,  thy  splendid  sun, 
Upon  thy  cliffs  their  brightness  pour. 
Our  heavens  with  sadness  often  lour. 
Celestial  summer  ever  reigns 
Upon  thy  mountains  and  thy  plains. 
Oh,  might  I  bathe  in  its  warm  rays  ! 
Oh,  might  I  tread  thy  lonely  ways 
To  see  at  eve  the  big  camp-fire 
In  roaring  tongues  of  flame  aspire, 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  139 

To  see  the  dawn  rise  from  her  bed, 
And  on  the  hills  her  first  light  tread, 
The  morning  twilight's  shadows  fleet 
Vanish  beneath  her  printless  feet ! 
When  smoky  London's  tide  of  sound 
My  weary  ears  is  poured  around, 
When  bus  and  van  and  cab  and  car 
Rumble  and  roar  with  rattling  jar, 
Louder  than  the  ocean  roar 
On  a  cavernous  rocky  shore, 
Thy  silent  woods  I  will  recall 
Where  I  can  hear  my  own  footfall, 
Where  not  the  breeze's  faintest  mutter 
Its  breath  among  the  leaves  does  utter." 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  spring  round-up  was  proceeding  at  the 
Diamond  Heart's  Ranch,  and  I  set  out  to  join  it. 
The  position  of  the  camp  could  only  be  con- 
jectured, but  the  calculation  was  not  difficult.  A 
cowpuncher  had  come  to  the  ranch  to  fetch  flour 
and  sugar  and  horseshoe  nails  a  few  days  before, 
and  had  left  word  of  their  position  at  that  moment. 
I  knew  the  range  well  enough  to  guess  the  next 
camping  spot  in  order,  and  determined  to  ride  to  it. 
I  collected  my  mount,  six  horses,  in  the  home 
pasture,  and  after  seeing  that  all  were  properly 
shod,  lashed  the  mass  of  blankets  wrapped  in  a 
tarpaulin  that  formed  my  bed  on  the  back  of  one  of 
them,  and  set  off,  driving  them  before  me. 

The  shadows  of  evening  had  grown  deep  in  the 
woods  before  I  found  camp.  The  cowpunchers 
were  sprawling  round  the  fire,  their  supper  finished  ; 
in  the  umbered  light  of  its  flames,  with  their  broad 
hats  and  unshaven  faces,  they  looked  a  brigand 
crew.  No  one  rose  to  meet  me  or  even  greeted 
me,  but  I  knew  the  style  of  the  people  and  ignored 
them  with  equal  unconcern ;  while  I  took  some 
food  out  of  the  frying-pan  and  oven,  which  were 
still  hot,  they  continued  to  talk  among  themselves 
in  obedience  to  their  boorish  etiquette.  As  he  sat 


140 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  141 

on  his  heels,  in  the  difficult  position  men  adopt  all 
the  world  over  who  live  where  there  are  no  chairs, 
the  second  cowpuncher,  who  was  whittling  away 
with  his  knife  at  a  piece  of  stick,  said — 

11 1  was  at  Red  River  City  when  they  started  to 
make  it ;  the  Southern  Pacific  had  just  got  there. 
It  was  only  a  little  old  town  of  wood  and  canvas, 
but  they  were  as  proud  as  hell,  and  claimed  five 
thousand  inhabitants  at  once." 

Having  spoken  thus  much  it  was  impossible  for 
him  not  to  refresh  his  mind  by  spitting.  This  he 
did,  and  continued — 

"  They  were  as  proud  as  hell,  and  started  a  town- 
hall  and  an  auditorium  and  an  opera-house  and  a 
newspaper  office,  all  made  of  wood  and  canvas. 
Well,  a  steer  outfit,  the  Three  Circles,  with  a  big 
herd  from  the  Rio  Grande,  blew  into  town.  There 
were  fifteen  boys,  and  a  lot  of  them  wanted  new 
pants,  but  the  stores  was  right  down  to  the  bed 
rock  on  pants  and  had  got  none.  So  some  of  the 
boys  ripped  off  the  canvas  from  an  empty  building, 
and  made  themselves  some.  Next  morning  the 
paper  came  out  that  they  regretted  to  say  that 
Three  Circle  outfit  had  cut  up  the  opera-house 
and  made  it  into  pants." 

The  remuda,  the  little  regiment  of  horses  that  is 
the  working  material  of  a  round-up,  grazed  all  day 
in  the  keeping  of  a  herd,  the  "horse-wrangler  " :  at 
night  the  whole  band  are  turned  loose  at  some  spot 
where  the  grass  is  good.  The  sociable  animals  will 
not  begin  to  disperse  before  the  light;  and  as 
leaders  always  exist  in  equine  companies,  bells  are 


142  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

tied  to  their  necks,  whose  sound  guides  the 
wrangler  when  he  sallies  to  get  them  at  dawn.  I 
was  told  where  the  remuda  had  been  put  for  the 
night;  so  borrowing  the  horse-wrangler's  mule, 
who  stood  tied  to  a  tree,  I  started  to  drive  my 
own  beasts  to  the  others. 

Black  clouds  muffling  the  stars  charged  along 
above  the  tall  trees,  and  dropped  heavy  thunder- 
drops.  When  I  got  back  to  camp  the  fire  was 
dying  out  and  the  silence  was  perfect.  On  the 
ground  lay  the  figures  of  the  cowpunchers  outlined 
by  the  tarpaulins  of  their  beds,  and  sunk  in  a  sleep 
as  deep  as  death.  I  glanced  at  the  wild  and 
threatening  sky  and  thought  it  prudent  to  prepare 
for  a  night  of  rain.  I  smoothed  out  the  heap  of 
blankets  under  which  lay  one  half  of  my  tarpaulin, 
and  drew  the  other  half  of  it  over  them,  tucking  in 
the  sides  carefully.  As  a  further  precaution  I  dug 
a  little  trench  round  the  edges  of  my  bed  to  carry 
off  the  rains  like  a  gutter.  I  was  thus  safe  and  dry 
from  anything  but  a  deluge. 

It  seemed  hardly  a  moment  before  I  opened  my 
eyes  in  the  greyness  of  the  dawn  and  the  icy  air 
almost  painful  in  its  intense  cold.  The  camp  was 
still  asleep;  only  the  cook  moved  in  the  still  dark 
woods,  dimly  stooping  over  the  fire  as  he  prepared 
our  breakfast,  and  the  horse-wrangler  on  his  mule 
was  vanishing,  shadowy  among  the  trees,  to  fetch 
the  horses.  I  fell  back  again  into  the  depths  of 
sleep  only  to  be  dragged  out  of  them  by  the 
trampling  of  forty  horses,  and  the  horse-wrangler's 
shouts,  "  Horses  !  horses  ! "  At  his  arrival  the 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  143 

camp  stirred,  and  I  emerged  from  warm  blankets  to 
pull  on  my  boots  in  the  biting  air,  and  wash  myself 
in  the  chill  stream.  Ropes  had  been  stretched 
from  trees  to  form  a  square,  and  into  this  frail 
court  the  horses  were  driven.  The  boys  stood 
round  to  contain  them,  and  each  to  count  his 
mount  and  see  that  no  horse  of  it  had  been  left 
behind.  The  foreman  roped  out  for  each  man  the 
beast  he  wanted  that  morning.  He  assigned  this 
duty  to  himself  as  the  most  certain  and  accurate, 
"  the  top  "  roper.  In  the  ordinary  throw  you  swing 
the  loop  round  and  round  over  your  head  before 
casting  it.  As  all  the  horses  would  have  seen  the 
rope  swinging  near,  and  pressing  to  get  away  from 
it  some  would  have  broken  out  and  run  off,  he 
used  an  overhand  throw,  much  like  that  of  an  over- 
hand bowler,  and  the  loop  dropped  over  the  head 
of  each  one  he  selected  in  the  shuffling  group  of 
horses,  circulating  with  incessant  motion. 

A  horse  nearly  always  has  to  be  caught  by  being 
roped,  and  this  is  one  of  the  many  uses  to  which 
a  cowpuncher  puts  his  rope.  Always  useful  in  this 
fashion  on  foot,  it  becomes  a  mechanical  instru- 
ment of  great  power  for  dragging  or  upsetting  on 
horseback,  one  end  of  it  being  tied  to  the  steel 
pommel  of  a  forty-pound  saddle  and  a  heavy  horse, 
and  the  other  end  of  it  formed  into  a  running  noose. 
With  it  the  cowman  can  control  the  half- wild  animals 
he  deals  with  ;  by  flinging  the  noose  on  the  feet  or 
head  of  any  quadruped  he  has  it  helpless.  His  in- 
structed pony  keeps  dragging  on  the  captive  steer 
while  he  jumps  off  and  forces  it  down  or  holds  it  on 


144  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

the  ground.  Whenever  he  wants  a  fresh  horse,  on 
foot  or  mounted,  he  loosens  his  rope  and  lets  it 
drop  over  its  head.  If  a  malignant  mule  refuses  to 
be  driven  he  lightly  catches  it  by  the  fore-feet  and 
flings  it  to  the  ground.  Except  a  bull  fierce  enough 
to  take  the  offensive,  the  cattle  must  obey  him.  A 
top  roper  will  not  miss  the  head  of  the  smallest  calf 
flying  from  him,  or  will  get  a  big  steer  galloping  off 
by  the  hind-feet  and  roll  him  on  the  ground.  No 
sport  offers  such  pictures  of  graceful  dexterity  as  a 
superior  cowpuncher  roping.  Down  the  side  of 
the  hill,  amid  rattling  stones,  an  old  long-horned 
steer  comes  charging;  close  at  its  tail  comes  the 
cow-pony,  keenly  following  him.  The  horseman, 
balancing  himself  at  the  jumps  and  swaying  to 
avoid  jutting  branches,  has  his  arm  stretched  out 
with  his  loop  hanging  ready.  At  the  first  clear 
space  he  gives  it  a  whirl  round  his  head,  and  it 
flies  over  the  horns  of  the  now  captive  steer ;  the 
heavy  fall  he  gets  teaches  him  obedience  to  man. 

Cowpunchers  pique  themselves  on  making  every 
possible  use  of  their  ropes.  With  it  they  drag  logs  ; 
they  haul  a  foundered  waggon  out  of  the  mud :  it 
is  a  weapon,  and  they  fling  it  over  a  small  bear,  or 
even  a  man,  and  stun  him  by  dragging  him  over  the 
rocks  at  full  pace.  Though  it  is  easy  to  rope  a 
little,  it  is  only  the  practice  of  a  lifetime  that  can 
make  a  real  top  roper.  A  Texan  begins  in  baby- 
hood, roping  at  fluttering  chickens  with  pieces  of 
string,  and  even  he  cannot  equal  the  fabulous  skill 
of  the  Mexican.  The  action  may  perhaps  be  best 
compared  to  the  throwing  of  a  cricket-ball :  so  also 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  145 

any  one  can  throw  it,  but  unfailing  accuracy  is 
difficult.  The  mountain  cowpunchers — for  corre- 
sponding to  the  distinction  of  mountain  and  plain 
there  are  two  races  of  cowpunchers,  filled  with 
mutual  contempt  for  each  other — are  very  fine 
ropers,  and  declare  that  their  colleagues  of  the 
plain  cannot  rope,  the  plainsman  retorting  that 
the  others  cannot  ride ;  for  the  mountaineer  often 
has  to  use  his  rope  on  some  lank,  long-horned  old 
steer,  lord  of  some  hidden  ridge  or  canyon,  taught 
by  many  years  of  success  to  escape  from  his  pur- 
suers and  only  to  be  tamed  by  a  heavy  fall,  while 
the  plainsman  always  works  with  a  mount  of 
twenty  horses  or  so,  fed  on  richer  grass,  always 
fresh  and  fat  and  therefore  always  bucking.  How- 
ever, roping  may  be  called  a  decaying  art,  as  it  is 
strongly  discouraged  by  owners,  who  suffer  in  the 
broken  necks  and  legs  of  their  cattle,  and  as  it  grows 
less  needful  with  their  increasing  tameness. 

After  eating  the  hot  food  prepared  for  us,  we  rode 
off  without  a  pause  to  make  a  drive.  The  sky  was 
hardly  yet  filled  with  light.  The  whole  band  of 
cowpunchers  rode  silently  after  the  foreman  along 
a  narrow  trail  that  rose  and  ran  along  smooth  and 
sloping  shelves  which  fell  with  a  sudden  precipitous 
drop  into  Black  Canyon.  On  the  other  side  of  the 
canyon  we  could  see  smooth  rolling  mesas  dotted 
with  trees  like  a  pleasant  park;  on  our  own  side 
the  ground  fell  into  deep  side-canyons  and  high 
crests,  round  the  abrupt  ends  of  which  we  were 
riding.  It  was  this  country  the  foreman  had  de- 
termined to  sweep  of  its  cattle. 

K 


146  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

"Now  the  boss  is  going  to  deal  out  the  pills/1 
said  the  second  cowpuncher  as  the  foreman  de- 
tached [one  man  after  another  up  the  side-canyons, 
pointing  to  him,  with  some  explanation,  the  direc- 
tion he  was  to  take.  He  fixed  the  point  on 
which  they  were  to  converge,  driving  the  cattle 
they  found. 

I  was  among  the  last  to  be  sent  off.  The  sun 
now  climbing  the  sky  had  begun  to  throw  long 
rays,  but  the  spring  flowers,  scarlet  and  blue,  still 
wore  their  morning  freshness.  For  two  hours  I 
rode  on,  my  eyes  ranging  over  the  mountain  sides 
vigilantly,  but  not  meeting  any  living  thing  any- 
where. At  length  I  saw,  lying  under  the  shelter 
of  a  fallen  tree,  several  little  calves  huddled 
together  in  the  sun.  They  were  very  small,  of 
the  same  colour  and  glossy  as  newly  opened 
horse-chestnuts.  Their  mothers  had  left  them  in 
this  warm  and  cosy  space  like  good  nurses,  while 
they  themselves  grazed  out  of  sight  on  a  patch  of 
juicy  grass.  The  little  fellows  looked  up  sleepily 
like  puppies  in  a  basket.  They  had  never  seen  a 
man  before  and  were  not  frightened ;  riding  off,  I 
soon  found  their  mothers.  I  hesitated  what  to  do, 
whether  to  leave  the  bunch  or  not.  There  were 
no  steers  with  them,  and  only  steers  were  being 
gathered  in  this  spring  round-up.  On  the  other 
hand  the  calves  were  unbranded.  At  length  I 
decided  to  go  on  without  them.  The  calves  were 
perhaps  too  young  to  bear  the  cruel  branding- 
iron,  especially  after  being  driven  a  long  way.  I 
left  them  in  their  warm  nest  and  rode  off  at  that 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  147 

slow,  easy  fox-trot  which  is  the  regular  working 
pace  of  the  cow-pony. 

For  a  long  time  I  saw  nothing  animate.  The 
year  had  been  wet.  The  springs  and  water-holes 
of  the  mountains  being  full,  the  cows  would  stay 
round  them  in  the  lofty  brakes  and  towering  bluffs. 
In  dry  years  the  thirsty  beasts  will  loiter  down  in 
the  bottom  of  the  canyons  round  the  thin  trickles 
of  water,  and  in  a  rainless  year  their  carcases,  pined 
with  drought,  lie  on  the  waterless  river-beds. 

At  last,  searching  a  little  draw  I  found  three 
head,  two  steers  and  a  cow,  grazing  among  low 
thickets  and  live  oak.  They  gazed  at  me  with 
surprise,  and  I  rode  round  them  and  drove  them 
along  my  original  way;  for  a  while  they  trotted 
on  in  front  obediently.  But  at  the  head  of  the 
canyon,  where  it  ran  up  into  a  long  main  ridge 
amid  thickets  of  dwarf  oak  and  pines,  different 
and  unaccountable  ideas  rose  in  their  heads.  The 
cow  turned  her  clownish  white  face  to  me,  gave 
an  inane  stare  and  turned  down  the  hill  at  a 
lumbering  canter.  At  this  example  the  two  steers 
started  to  run  off  in  different  directions.  I  was 
angry,  and,  charging  down  the  hill  after  the  cow, 
turned  her  up  towards  the  ridge,  but  the  two  steers 
had  disappeared  and  I  only  found  them  after  a 
search.  They  bolted  again  through  the  thick 
pines  on  seeing  me  and  gave  me  a  brisk  run. 
The  trees  were  thick,  their  limbs  were  low,  the 
ground  uneven  and  strewn  with  fallen  timber ; 
my  horse,  familiar  with  this  sport,  went  racing 
through  all  this  with  zest,  jumping  and  turning 


148  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

and  stumbling.  With  the  occasional  help  of  the 
pommel  I  accomplished  my  purpose,  which  cost 
me  nothing  but  a  few  bruises  on  the  knees  and 
scratches  on  the  face.  Circling  round  the  two 
steers  I  drove  them  back  to  the  cow,  and  again 
they  trotted  in  front  of  me  along  the  ridge. 

Looking  across  the  canyon,  whose  deep  broad 
gulf  lay  on  my  right,  I  saw  on  the  other  side  the 
second  cowpuncher  trying  to  drive  a  bunch  of 
cattle  along  the  steep  slope  of  it ;  they  were  scatter- 
ing and  he  trying  to  collect  them.  The  distance 
made  him  minute,  but  the  clear  air  sharpened  my 
sight  and  I  could  see  him  spurring  his  panting 
horses  after  them.  The  sun  was  now  driving  in 
full  splendour  across  a  cloudless  sky.  In  the 
golden  light  the  coarse  blue  canvas  worn  by  him 
shone  with  silken  lustre. 

I  raced  my  animals  down  into  the  canyon  as  fast 
as  I  could  to  go  to  his  assistance.  The  cowpuncher 
saw  me,  and  the  thin  air  of  this  altitude  easily 
carried  his  shout  to  my  ears  ;  he  also  turned  his 
beasts  straight  down  the  slope  to  meet  mine  at  the 
broad  bottom  of  the  vale. 

Our  little  herd  went  peacefully  up  it  under  the 
control  of  two  horsemen,  and  several  head  were 
added  to  it.  The  cowpuncher  could  detect  their 
tawny  spots  in  the  far  hilltops  long  before  me.  I 
pored  over  the  hillsides  of  rock  and  brush  like  a 
beginner  over  a  difficult  page.  The  cowpuncher 
read  them  at  a  glance.  The  same  recalcitrant 
yearling  that  had  run  from  me  was  not  yet  reduced 
to  order.  Several  attempts  of  his  to  bolt  were 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  149 

checked,  but  at  length  he  burst  away  up  the  hill- 
side. The  cowpuncher  pursued  him,  but  the  year- 
ling had  gained  a  fair  start  and  went  nearly  to  the 
ridge  before  he  could  be  caught.  As  his  horse 
laboured  up  the  ascent  he  had  angrily  loosened  the 
folds  of  his  rope  from  the  saddle-horn  and  got  it 
ready,  determined  to  discipline  him.  It  hung  from 
his  outstretched  arm,  and  as  soon  as  he  got  within 
distance  he  whirled  it  over  the  calf  and  started  to 
drag  the  prostrate  and  bellowing  little  creature 
down  the  hill.  At  the  bottom  of  the  slope  he  re- 
leased him,  and  the  yearling,  restored  to  docility, 
trotted  off  to  join  the  herd. 

At  last  we  reached  our  destination,  and  found 
the  "  hold  up."  Each  man  had  come  to  the  meet- 
ing-point with  a  few  head  who  had  all  been  thrown 
together,  and  were  being  held  up  in  one  herd.  We 
found  the  dappled  cattle  standing  and  lying  about, 
and  the  cowpunchers  round  them,  most  of  them 
dismounted.  The  high  point  we  had  now  reached 
gave  us  a  view  of  an  infinite  rolling  sea  of  woods  on 
one  side.  On  the  other  side  lay  the  steep  and  sunny 
canyons  we  had  just  ascended.  In  the  distance 
rose  circle  after  circle,  tier  after  tier  of  mountains 
— a  mighty  amphitheatre.  On  the  farthest  verge  the 
giant  Mogollyon  mountains,  vast,  dark,  and  un- 
explored, kept  guard.  A  sky  of  the  sweetest  Italian 
blue  smiled  upon  our  heads. 

We  two  had  been  the  last  to  arrive,  and  the  fore- 
man set  the  herd  moving  down  along  the  wander- 
ing canyon  that  led  back  to  camp.  One  side  of  this 
canyon  had  been  swept  in  the  first  drive.  To  clear 


150  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

the  other  side  of  its  cattle  most  of  the  men  were 
detailed  over  various  lines  of  country,  all  leading  to 
the  main  artery  down  which  the  cattle  were  going, 
with  whom  I  and  the  second  cowpuncher  were  left. 
Whatever  cattle  they  found  was  to  be  driven  to  this 
herd. 

I  set  about  the  monotonous  work,  pushing  and 
shouting  at  the  tardy  beasts,  charging  the  laggards. 
The  long  procession  included  all  kinds,  from  small 
skipping  calves,  sailing  close  under  the  hulls  of 
their  big  mothers,  to  antique  and  jovial  bulls, 
whose  steps  were  measured  and  majestic.  This 
made  them  easy  to  drive ;  there  were  no  separa- 
tions of  mothers  and  offsprings,  and  frantic  efforts 
on  the  part  of  each  to  join  the  other.  The  cow- 
puncher  whom  I  had  helped  earlier  was  still  young 
and  genial.  A  scrubby  beard  clothed  his  round, 
yokel  face,  matching  the  stained  and  unkempt  black 
clothes  he  wore.  As  we  rode  together  he  enlivened 
the  tedious  work  by  telling  me  huge  and  very  simple 
lies,  almost  falling  from  his  saddle  in  paroxysms  of 
laughter  at  his  own  humour.  Being  able  to  take 
this  work  at  our  ease,  he  crooked  his  leg  round  the 
horn  of  his  saddle,  and  in  a  tuneless  and  discordant 
voice  sung  songs  of  the  most  pointless  impropriety. 
But  some  of  them  were  redolent  of  Texan  life,  and 
celebrated  the  famous  drives  on  the  Long  Trail  in 
which  his  father  had  spent  his  life : — 

"  My  lover  is  a  cowboy, 

He's  kind  and  brave  and  true ; 
He  rides  a  Spanish  pony, 
And  throws  the  lasso  too. 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  151 

And  when  he  comes  to  see  me, 

For  his  coming  I  do  long, 
I  put  my  hand  in  his  hand, 

He  sings  to  me  this  song : 

*  I  am  a  Texan  puncher, 

Merry  and  gay  and  free, 
To  work  upon  the  prairie 

Is  always  joy  to  me. 
My  trusty  little  ponies 

Are  my  companions  true ; 
O'er  plain  and  rock  and  rivers, 

They  sure  will  pull  me  through. 

'  When  early  dawn  is  breaking 

On  the  plains  far  away, 
I  get  into  my  saddle 

And  round-up  all  the  day. 
We  rope,  we  mark,  we  brand  'em ; 

I  tell  you  what,  we're  smart — 
We  get  the  herd  all  ready  ; 

For  Kansas,  then  we  start. 

'  I  am  a  jolly  puncher, 

From  Texas  State  I  hail ; 
With  bridle,  gun,  and  saddle, 

I'm  ready  for  the  trail. 
I  like  the  rolling  prairie, 

So  free  from  care  and  strife, 
Behind  a  herd  of  long-horns, 

I'd  journey  all  my  life. 

'  When  heavy  clouds  do  gather, 

And  the  wild  lightnings  flash, 
And  crashing  thunders  rattle, 

And  heavy  rain-drops  splash, 
What  keeps  the  herd  from  running 

Stampeding  far  and  wide  ? 
'Tis  the  cowboy  lover's  whistle, 

And  singing  by  their  side. 


152  A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

'  When  we  reach  Kansas  city 

The  boss  our  wages  pays. 
We  rope  'em  on  the  sidewalk, 

All  kinds  of  hell  we  raise  ; 
And  then  from  northern  cities, 

Upon  the  cars  we  come, 
That  rock  us  back  to  Texas, 

The  puncher's  native  home.' " 

At  intervals  cowpunchers  would  appear  out  of 
the  thickets  of  live  oak  that  covered  the  steep  sides 
of  the  canyon  and  send  down  an  affluent  stream  to 
flow  into  the  principal  body  descending  the  canyon. 
They  were  welcomed  with  a  sympathetic  bellow- 
ing, and  lost  themselves  in  the  mass  of  flicking  tails 
and  tossing  horns  and  dappled  backs. 

The  steer,  the  length  of  whose  horns  proclaimed 
his  untamable  Mexican  origin,  and  who  had 
already  been  il  busted "  by  the  cowpuncher  that 
morning,  was  still  refractory ;  he  now  seized  his 
opportunity  and  dashed  past  us  and  up  the  canyon. 
My  companion,  volleying  a  torrent  of  oaths,  dashed 
over  the  rocks  after  him.  He  thought  it  proper 
to  bust  him  again  more  severely,  and  in  so  doing 
he  performed  the  most  difficult  of  roping  feats, 
"fore-footing  a  running  cow."  He  galloped  along 
the  side  of  the  flying  steer,  keeping  him  on  his 
right,  and  threw  his  rope  so  that  the  long  loop 
flew  over  the  steer's  withers,  curled,  and  caught 
his  fore-feet.  At  the  same  moment  he  turned  his 
horse  round  in  the  opposite  direction.  The  steer's 
fore-legs  were  thus  jerked  from  under  him  as  he 
was  going  at  full  pace,  and  almost  turning  a  com- 
plete somersault,  he  fell  with  fearful  violence. 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  153 

The  hot  sun  was  full  on  its  downward  course 
when  we  reached  camp.  There  was  a  big  double 
corral,  a  double  arena  of  high  posts  and  bars, 
into  which  the  cattle  flowed  and  were  shut.  The 
horse-wrangler  had  the  horses  ready.  Food  was 
eaten  in  the  silence  of  haste  and  hunger ;  getting 
any  food  at  all  during  the  day  was  a  privilege 
which  we  owed  to  the  organising  power  of  the 
foreman. 

The  "  round-up  "  was  a  steer  round-up,  that  is 
to  say  its  main  object  was  to  collect  sufficient 
steers  to  fulfil  the  terms  of  a  contract  to  deliver 
a  given  number  by  a  certain  date ;  incidentally, 
all  unbranded  calves  following  Diamond  Heart 
mothers  were  branded.  This  collection  of  cattle 
is  the  routine  of  a  "round-up,"  for  whatever  pur- 
poses it  may  be  going  on.  The  next  thing  was 
to  "  cut "  the  steers,  to  sort  them  out  of  the  pro- 
ceeds of  the  drive.  At  the  end  of  our  hurried 
meal  the  foreman  got  into  his  saddle  immediately, 
and  we  followed  him  and  dismounted  at  the  corrals, 
now  a  sea  of  tawny  backs  and  tossing  horns.  The 
branding-irons,  whose  pastoral  hook  belied  their 
purposes,  were  drawn  from  the  leather  cases  and 
thrust  into  a  small  fire  lit  in  the  corner  of  the 
corral.  The  boss,  who  alone  remained  mounted, 
rode  slowly  into  the  welter  of  cattle  and  tossed  his 
line  over  an  unbranded  calf,  which  he  dragged  to 
the  fire  struggling  like  a  fish  at  the  end  of  a  line. 
A  man  ran  down  the  taut  rope  and,  leaning  over, 
grasped  the  calf  with  one  hand  at  the  neck  and 
with  the  other  at  the  flank.  As  the  calf  bucked,  he 


i54  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

neatly  jerked  his  legs  from  under  him— "  flanked 
him,"  in  technical  language — and  dropped  with  a 
knee  on  him.  The  others  held  the  little  creature 
by  different  holds  while  his  ears  were  marked  with 
the  knife  and  the  brand  of  the  Diamond  and  Heart 
burnt  into  his  side.  Released,  the  poor  little  thing 
went  bawling  after  its  mother. 

The  smallest,  a  few  months  old,  as  sleek  and 
soft  to  handle  as  puppies,  are  often  spared  till  they 
grow  older.  But  a  big  calf  makes  a  fight,  and  it 
is  hot  work  bringing  him  down  on  his  side.  I 
spent  hours  in  the  sweat  of  these  struggles,  in  hot 
whirling  clouds  of  dust  raised  by  the  frantic  cattle 
and  the  smell  of  burnt  hair  and  flesh. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  branding,  the  foreman 
briefly  said  they  would  cut  the  steers.  Four  of  the 
men  rode  their  horses  into  the  corrals,  and  one 
of  these  stationed  himself  at  the  gate  which  divided 
them.  The  others  waited.  The  foreman  rode  into 
the  press  of  beasts,  and  the  sea  of  horns  and  backs 
parted  before  him  and  surged  in  all  directions. 
From  the  mass  he  loosened  a  group,  from  the 
group  a  single  steer,  then  charged  this  steer  towards 
the  gate.  The  steer  dodged  and  doubled,  but  the 
horse  followed  him  as  closely  as  a  collie  dog  does 
sheep;  the  other  horsemen  surrounded  the  beast, 
and,  whacking  their  resonant  leather  leggings  with 
their  quirts,  chased  him  through  the  gate.  So 
gradually  the  entire  quantity  of  steers  was  sifted 
from  one  corral  to  the  other. 

Cutting  the  herd  is  the  prettiest  part  of  cow- 
work,  and  is  not  stained  with  its  ordinary  brutality. 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  155 

It  is  a  display  of  animal  intelligence  almost  equal 
to  a  dog's,  such  as  horses  rarely  give,  and  it  has 
a  grace  and  excitement  of  its  own.  In  the  moun- 
tains where  the  herds  are  small,  it  is  not  difficult. 
But  in  the  plains  the  herds  are  vast  and  counted  by 
thousands :  yet  among  these  thousands,  and  in  a 
whirlwind  of  penetrating  dust,  the  cowman  must 
be  able  to  distinguish  the  brand  and  age  and  sex 
of  the  animals  he  wants,  and  cutting  is  thus  one 
of  the  highest  tests  of  his  qualities.  It  is  at  the 
same  time  the  highest  test  of  his  horsemanship, 
for  a  bucking  horse  is  said  to  be  easier  to  sit  than 
a  fine  cutting  horse,  which  turns  so  quickly. 

The  sun  had  now  fallen  below  the  mountains, 
and  the  first  dark  veils  of  night  began  to  shadow 
sky  and  earth.  It  remained  for  us  to  store  our 
bag  for  that  day,  the  score  of  steers  we  had  cap- 
tured, by  taking  them  to  one  of  the  large  barbed- 
wire  pastures,  there  to  wait  till  the  round-up  was 
over.  The  mass  of  the  cattle  were  turned  loose 
and  scattered,  bawling  and  cropping  at  the  grass, 
into  the  pine-woods  and  cedar  thickets.  After 
their  disappearance,  the  steers  were  marched  out 
of  the  inner  corral,  surrounded  by  a  close  guard 
of  cowpnnchers,  on  their  way  to  the  pasture. 
But  they  missed  the  congenial  company  of  their 
mothers  and  relations,  and  the  novelty  of  each 
other's  society  did  not  attract  them.  At  every 
instant  one  darted  out  and  tried  to  get  away,  but 
his  guards  invariably  chased  him  back.  Our  horses 
were  still  fresh,  and  the  way  led  over  smooth  and 
rolling  mesas,  like  English  downs.  It  was  an 


156  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

interval  of  frolic  and  pleasant  excitement,  such 
as  sometimes  relieves  the  dulness  and  anxiety  of 
cattle-work. 

By  the  time  we  sighted  the  gate  of  the  pasture, 
the  evening  star  in  the  van  of  the  heavenly  armies 
was  above  the  hill  in  his  effulgent  panoply.  At  the 
bottom  of  the  last  canyon  we  reached  the  trees 
were  thick,  and  we  found  ourselves  in  the  double 
darkness  of  woods  and  night ;  I  rode  in  a  cavern 
of  leafy  gloom,  the  branches  brushed  my  cheek, 
and  I  could  hear  the  beasts  splashing  in  the  stream 
as  they  drank  greedily  :  the  pungent  perfume  of 
an  unknown  weed  filled  the  air,  a  scent  like  that 
which  blows  from  citron  and  orange  groves,  in 
the  spring,  by  Mediterranean  seas.  At  last  we  saw 
the  tired  beasts  safe  within  the  barbed-wire  fence. 
When  we  emerged  from  the  canyon  again  on  to 
the  heights,  the  glittering  hosts  of  the  stars  occupied 
all  the  fields  of  heaven  and  a  full  moon  poured  its 
splendour  on  the  billows  of  foliage  below.  The 
air  was  cool  and  windless,  and  the  refreshment  it 
brought  was  delicious  after  the  toil  of  the  day.  All 
fatigue  left  me  at  the  beauty  and  pleasure  of  the 
scene,  and  it  had  an  effect  even  on  the  spirits  of 
my  callous  companions.  Long  after  they  were 
asleep,  I  remained  alone  by  the  camp-fire  gazing  at 
that  array  of  bright  lamps,  which  at  that  elevation 
seemed  to  throb  with  an  ineffable  lustre. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

BELPHCEBE  and  I  rode  along  the  shady  valley  of 
the  Gila,  crossing  and  re-crossing  it,  and  driving 
before  us  four  donkeys.  They  were  to  be  used  by 
me  on  an  expedition  I  intended  to  make  with  Hay, 
the  bear-trapper,  who  had  been  taken  for  that 
summer  into  the  employment  of  some  neighbour- 
ing ranchman,  where  grizzlies  had  been  committing 
depredations.  I  intended  to  put  the  donkeys  in  a 
certain  pasture,  a  vast  piece  of  land  enclosed  by 
barbed  wire,  where  it  would  be  very  convenient 
for  me  to  leave  them  till  I  wanted  them.  Reinhold 
had  at  first  promised  to  accompany  us.  But  the 
day  before  the  foreman  and  a  cowpuncher,  riding 
down  a  canyon,  had  seen  a  cougar  eating  on  a 
dead  cow ;  he  is  a  common  enough  beast,  a  kind 
of  small  panther,  yellow,  and  not  very  much  bigger 
than  a  wild  cat.  They  galloped  after  it,  and  the 
cowardly  creature,  bloated  with  meat,  had  run 
some  distance  and  crouched  under  a  tree.  With 
a  fine  shot  from  his  horse,  at  about  thirty  paces, 
the  foreman  had  killed  it,  and  subsequently  pre- 
sented the  skin  to  Belphcebe.  He  had  told  us  we 
should  probably  find  another.  It  was  a  likely 
place  for  them,  high,  rocky  ledges  over  the  Gila, 
and  Reinhold,  who  was  a  resolute  hunter,  had 


157 


158  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

gone  that  way  on  the  chance  of  finding  one.  We 
were  to  meet  him  at  an  agreed  place.  In  front  of 
us  trotted  the  three  black  donkeys,  all  of  them  large 
and  powerful,  the  spread  of  their  large  ears  reveal- 
ing the  high-bred  strain  of  their  blood.  The  little 
white  donkey,  Jack,  had  also  been  extracted  from 
the  brush  which  he  made  his  hermitage  and  made 
to  join  them.  In  such  company  he  felt  himself 
humiliated,  being  accustomed  to  work  only  with 
horses  on  a  cow  outfit,  and  rather  snobbishly  dis- 
daining his  own  race.  His  haughty  heart  boiled 
in  his  small  breast.  To  follow  these  black,  menial 
creatures  was  an  indignity  to  one  who  had  trotted 
in  the  lead,  with  five  hundred  hoofs  thundering 
behind  him,  so  he  kept  his  black  brethren  at  a 
due  distance.  Jack  had  even  learned  to  imitate 
the  ways  of  a  horse  :  when  lifting  his  head  to  stare 
at  a  stranger,  he  tried  to  give  his  short  neck  a 
proud  arch,  and  he  would  flick  his  stumpy  tail 
like  the  wild  mares,  whose  long  tails  are  like 
willows  swept  by  the  west  wind.  The  first  black 
donkey  jogged  in  front  of  us,  loaded  with  the  heap 
of  blankets  that  make  up  a  bed  in  that  country. 
He  disappeared  under  the  pile.  I  had  loosened 
the  rope  which  hung  rolled  up  to  the  steel  pommel 
of  my  saddle,  and  occasionally  enlivened  his  pace 
by  flicking  him  with  the  loose  end.  Belphoebe 
interposed  on  his  behalf,  and  I  had  to  reassure 
her  that  the  most  furious  lashings  would  hardly 
tickle  that  tough  hide.  The  company  of  those 
quaint  and  endearing  little  animals  gave  her  great 
enjoyment,  and  she  devoted  her  attention  to  them. 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  159 

The  second  black  donkey  was  under  suspicion  of 
being  a  runaway,  so  he  was  necked  by  a  thick 
short  rope  to  the  neck  of  the  third  black  donkey, 
whose  fidelity  was  unimpeachable.  Like  drunken 
companions,  they  were  inseparable  but  constantly 
deviating  :  number  two  sometimes  bit  playfully  at 
the  neck  of  number  three,  who  pursued  her  way 
mildly  and  gravely. 

"  Did  Reinhold  start  before  dawn  to  see  about 
his  cougar  ?  "  Belphcebe  asked  me. 

"  We  both  saw  the  Dawn/'  I  explained,  "  but  we 
are  familiar  with  her." 

"  I  like  her  in  the  mountains/'  said  Belphcebe, 
"she  is  rosy  and  fresh,  driving  a  golden  chariot. 
Down  in  the  plains  she  is  quite  Oriental,  in  a  robe 
of  saffron,  with  jewels  of  amethyst,  and  her  chariot 
is  burning  red." 

"  I  am  tired  of  the  Dawn  anywhere,"  I  answered, 
11 1  see  too  much  of  her;  she  is  intrusive  and  im- 
portunate ;  her  face  is  only  blowsy  to  me,  and  I 
wish  apoplexy  would  carry  her  off  one  night." 

We  fell  into  silence,  again  enjoying  the  pure  air 
and  pure  sky.  The  first  fresh  sounds  of  spring 
were  in  the  air.  Belphcebe  turned  fond  eyes  to- 
wards me,  and  their  blue  seemed  to  reflect  the 
light  of  those  skies.  I  took  her  hand  as  we  rode 
and  said — 

"Belphoebe,  let  me  hear  that  song  about  the 
spring  you  sung  the  last  time  we  were  here." 

She  excused  herself. 

"  But,  you  know,  I  don't  think  I  could  sing  on  a 
horse." 


160  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

I  insisted — 

"  Yes,  you  can :  won't  you  try  ?  " 

"  Very  well,"  she  said.  "  I  will  if  you  want  me 
to." 

She  sang  an  ancient  song  of  rather  stilted  words, 
but  with  a  melody  in  it  that  fell  lightly. 

"  Now  down  the  vales  with  ringing  notes  and  bold 
Spring's  heralds  lifting  sound  their  trumps  of  gold. 

The  lawns  with  flowers  embroidered 

Are  a  soft,  painted  carpet  spread  ; 

The  stately  woods  raised  tall  and  high, 

Pavilions  under  which  to  lie  ; 

Spring  herself  with  laughter  glances 

As  down  the  vale  she  trips  and  dances. 
Above  tall,  silken  fleets  of  cloud  do  stand, 
To  bear  her  smoothly  to  th'  enchanted  land." 

The  echo  prolonged  each  rich  note  of  her  voice, 
and  the  radiant  skies  lent  a  charm  to  this  music. 
I  looked  at  her  and  said — 

"  That  valley  was  in  Surrey,  and  never  near  this 
canyon." 

The  wandering  course  of  the  Gila  now  ran  across 
our  path  again.  It  was  as  clear  as  molten  crystal, 
of  admirable  transparency.  I  thought  of  it  in  its 
fierce  winter  mood,  not  a  small  stream  through 
which  our  horses  now  splashed,  but  a  broad  river, 
swollen  and  black  with  rage,  charging  down  the 
canyon,  carrying  under  its  clamorous  waters  a 
dangerous  and  invisible  drift  of  logs  and  roots. 
I  remembered  one  occasion  in  the  winter  when  I 
had  found  it  like  this  on  the  very  same  spot.  It 
had  hardly  wetted  my  horse's  fetlocks,  as  he 
splashed  across  it,  on  my  journey  away  from  the 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  161 

ranch  ;  but  on  my  return,  three  days  later,  I  had 
to  go  through  this  flood  to  reach  home  again. 
Ignorant  and  inexperienced,  I  rashly  put  my  horse 
into  the  water  where  I  thought  there  would  be 
shallows,  and  he  reluctantly  dropped  down  into 
it  from  the  bank.  Instantly  I  felt  myself  immersed 
in  icy  water.  The  stream,  which  was  at  that  point 
as  deep  as  it  was  violent,  had  knocked  my  horse's 
legs  from  under  him,  and  we  were  rolling  in  the 
waters.  When  I  got  my  head  out  I  found  my  left 
foot  was  still  in  the  stirrup,  and  my  horse  was 
swimming  and  plunging  along,  dragging  me.  I 
tried  to  get  hold  of  the  broad  stirrup-leather  and 
to  haul  myself  to  where  I  could  grasp  the  pommel, 
but  this  acrobatic  feat  was  too  difficult,  so  I  gave 
it  up  and  worked  my  foot  free  from  the  stirrup 
altogether.  I  found  myself  standing  on  a  bank 
of  sand,  the  waters  pouring  round  me,  and  watched 
my  horse  swimming  down,  turned  round  and 
round  helplessly,  till  he  struck  a  shelving  bank, 
where  he  walked  out  and  shook  his  dripping  hide. 
I  stood  till  I  saw  him  out  and  then  descended  into 
the  furious  river  to  wade  through,  for  it  was  not 
deep  at  that  spot.  The  impetuous  current  im- 
mediately knocked  me  over  and  I  was  carried 
off  and  spun  like  a  straw.  It  was  impossible  to 
swim  with  heavy  boots  and  spurs,  and  a  heavy 
cartridge-belt  and  six-shooter,  but  I  contrived  to 
breast  the  waters  and  keep  my  head  above  them. 
Soon  I  was  swept  by  the  root  of  a  tree  growing 
from  the  bank,  and  catching  it,  I  hauled  myself 
out. 

L 


1 62  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

I  reminded  Belphoebe  of  the  incident,  and  she 
turned  and  looked  at  the  place. 

The  next  crossing,  for  the  Gila,  like  all  canyon 
rivers,  wanders  in  its  course  from  side  to  side 
and  compels  you  to  traverse  and  re-traverse  its 
stream  —  the  next  crossing  was  a  little  deeper. 
The  shallow  waters  chafed  at  some  boulders  in 
their  way,  and  the  loaded  donkey  picked  his  way 
uneasily  through  them.  The  bed  passed  over  and 
ascended  the  other  bank.  It  seemed  to  move  auto- 
matically up  it.  Only  two  long,  black,  astute  ears 
projecting  at  the  bed's  brow,  revealed  the  principle 
of  motion  living  inside  it. 

"  Do  you  think  he  can  stand  up  by  himself  ?  " 
Belphcebe  asked  anxiously  at  the  sight  of  his 
caution. 

I  told  her  the  powerful  little  animal  needed  no 
help,  and  showed  her  his  sagacious  companions 
using  equal  care,  as  we  followed  them.  I  still 
held  her  hand.  I  kissed  the  white  fingers  and 
said — 

"  Dearest,  before  you  knew  I  did  exist,  my  soul 
flew  to  your  service,  and  when  we  met,  I  was  your 
servant.  But  I  from  you  received  nothing  but 
harshness,  and  after  months  of  pain  you  barely 
grew  polite.  For  all  these  hurts  you  owe  me  much. 
With  double  usury  I  mean  to  get  my  debt,  but  kisses 
sweet  shall  be  the  coin." 

She  pressed  my  fingers  and  made  rejoinder. 

"  I  felt  the  same  and  prayed  to  be  your  mate  ;  if 
not,  your  servant,  to  help  you  in  this  world.  But  I 
was  told  nem  must  be  made  to  woo  and  value  not 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  163 

what  comes  to  them  unsought.  But  I  was  won 
from  the  first  moment :  the  rest  was  all  pretence. 
A  bitter  pleasure  lies  in  hurting  those  into  whose 
arms  we  fain  would  fall.  Their  humbleness  is 
proof  of  power,  and  we  love  to  play  the  tyrant." 

I  released  her  hand,  to  drive  the  donkeys  up  a 
steep  trail  that  took  us  by  a  long  ridge  out  of  the 
valley  of  the  Gila.  At  the  top  we  paused  to  breathe 
our  horses  and  look  round.  Under  the  radiant 
light  innumerable  battalions  of  pines  poured  over 
the  valley  and  up  to  the  summits  of  the  heights. 
Close  to  the  stream,  in  the  damp  soil,  the  high 
cotton-wood  trees  clustered  bosoming,  with  their 
new  spring  dress  of  fresh  green. 

I  took  her  hand  again  and  asked — 

"  Do  you  remember  the  hour,  the  evening  hour, 
when  as  I  held  your  hand  to  say  good-bye  you 
leant  against  my  breast,  and  we  embraced  for  the 
first  time  ;  why  did  you  then  relent  ?  " 

She  answered — 

"You  were  too  kind,  too  patient  :  I  would  not 
delay  to  tease  you  any  longer." 

But  we  were  now  distracted  from  this  subject  by 
the  antics  of  the  donkeys,  for  we  were  now  going 
down  hill,  which  always  makes  a  donkey  frolic- 
some. It  is  then  he  loves  to  charge  bounding  and 
braying  into  a  troop  of  his  friends.  The  whole 
cavalcade  rolled  down  the  hill  at  the  same  fantastic 
gait.  At  the  bottom  they  stopped  and  surveyed 
each  other  soberly. 

"  Thou  shalt  play  with  thy  neighbour "  is  the 
fundamental  commandment  in  the  Asinine  Deca- 


164  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

logue,  and  donkeys,  justest  of  all  animals,  are  more 
playful  than  dogs.  Their  games  are  various.  The 
national  sport  is  to  run  along  together  and  bite  at 
your  neighbour's  neck ;  then  to  stand  side  by  side, 
without  a  movement.  When  going  down  hill  you 
must  always  run,  duck  your  head  between  your 
legs,  bound  in  the  air  and  lash  with  both  heels  at 
imaginary  enemies.  This  recreation  is  improved 
if  you  can  loosen  your  load,  as  you  go  off  the  hill, 
and  watch  it  tumble  off  piece  by  piece,  and  a 
further  refinement  is  to  have  a  frantic  man  clatter- 
ing after  you  and  trying  to  stop  you.  If  alone, 
a  favourite  pastime  is  to  scratch  your  forehead  with 
your  hind  foot ;  but  the  rule  is,  that  your  hind  foot 
must  pass  between  your  ears.  Another  difficult 
achievement  is  to  twist  your  head  far  enough  round 
to  graze  off  the  grass  behind  your  tail ;  but  it  does 
not  count  if  your  legs  move. 

This  superior  species  reverses  the  rule  of  man- 
kind. As  a  colt,  a  donkey  is  grave  and  reverend  ; 
but  old  age  makes  him  frolicsome,  and  little  Jack, 
who  had  reached  the  extreme  limit  of  life  and 
worked  in  the  range  in  the  time  of  the  Apaches, 
was  the  clown  of  the  party.  Mildest  of  quad- 
rupeds, his  fancy  lay  in  pretending  to  be  wicked 
and  fierce.  Coming  down  hill  was  his  special 
opportunity :  he  abased  his  lofty  ears  and  galloped 
down,  kicking  at  imaginary  aggressors,  and  buck- 
ing. The  others  maintained  a  decorum  befitting 
their  youth,  but  they  could  not  entirely  resist  the 
influence  of  Jack,  and  sketched  a  slight  imitation 
of  his  wild  antics.  Jack  stood  already  awaiting 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  165 

them  at  the  bottom  of  the  hill,  satisfied  that  he  had 
confirmed  and  established  the  impression  of  his 
dangerous  ferocity. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  slope  we  found  ourselves 
amid  endless  ranks  of  pines;  our  horses'  tread  was 
muffled  in  the  deep  bed  of  needles,  and  we  ceased 
to  speak.  The  inhabitants  of  the  mountains  ride 
silently  and  only  new-comers  can  talk  in  them. 
The  mountain  heights  are  still,  without  the  sound 
of  a  bird  or  a  breath  of  wind,  as  still  as  mid- 
night under  a  noonday  sun,  and  their  silence 
falls  on  human  beings.  At  moments  we  discerned, 
in  a  glimpse  through  the  trees,  the  twinkling  of 
flying  deer.  At  last  we  reached  a  corral  close  to 
which  a  small  shrunken  rivulet  trickled  through  the 
rocks.  This  was  the  place  where  we  had  agreed  to 
meet  Reinhold  and  share  our  luncheon.  I  loosened 
the  girths  of  the  horses,  and  slipped  back  their 
bridles  to  let  them  graze,  and  also  unloaded  the 
bed  of  the  first  donkey  to  relieve  him.  The  little 
beasts  remained  in  a  group,  resting  themselves, 
looking  more  like  toys  than  useful  animals :  funny 
toys  too,  for  they  are  all  incongruity  in  appearance. 
Their  heads  are  out  of  all  proportion  to  their 
bodies,  and  their  ears  to  their  heads ;  and  their 
look  of  resignation  and  benevolence  at  one  end 
so  completely  contrasts  with  the  flicking  tails  and 
lively  heels  on  the  other. 

I  untied  one  pack  of  sandwiches  and  placed 
them  on  the  root  of  a  tree,  and  then,  moving  a  little 
farther  off,  I  knelt  to  untie  the  string  of  another 
packet,  thus  assuming  an  attitude  of  involuntary 


1 66  A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

gallantry,  of  one  knee  on  the  ground.  Belphcebe 
sat  down  suddenly  on  the  other,  and  parting  my 
hair  which  had  fallen  in  disorder  over  my  eyes 
while  I  unloaded  the  first  donkey's  pack,  kissed  me 
on  the  forehead.  The  sapphire  of  her  eyes  still 
gleamed  with  exhilaration  of  our  ride.  She  had 
a  long,  recalcitrant  wisp  of  hair  which  escaped 
with  other  blown  and  ringlety  curls  to  play  on  her 
azure-veined  temple  ;  in  vain  it  was  restored  to  its 
place  in  the  heavy  masses  ;  irreclaimable,  it  broke 
away  to  flutter  in  her  eyes.  In  return  for  her 
caress  I  took  this  familiar,  silken  curl  and  pulled  it 
sharply.  She  laughed,  and  punished  my  imperti- 
nence by  giving  me  a  push  which  over-balanced 
me  backwards  on  to  the  ground. 

I  rose  and  turned  to  get  the  packet  of  sandwiches 
I  had  placed  on  the  root  of  the  tree.  They  had 
vanished,  paper  and  all.  A  few  yards  off  Jack 
stood  sleepily ;  only  a  slow,  almost  imperceptible 
movement  of  his  mouth  showed  the  road  they 
had  taken,  and  we  found  ourselves  with  our  lunch 
diminished  by  half. 

We  now  heard  Reinhold  approaching,  and  the 
hoofs  of  his  horse  rattling  on  the  rocky  bed  of  the 
stream.  He  reached  us  in  a  state  of  exultation,  as 
he  could  now  add  a  cougar  to  the  other  beasts  he 
had  slain.  The  yellow  skin  he  had  left  hanging  up 
on  a  tree,  for  his  horse  would  not  tolerate  having 
it  tied  to  the  saddle.  There  had  been  something 
inglorious  in  its  death.  When  Reinhold  reached 
the  place  where  the  carcase  lay  and  had  it  in  view, 
he  could  see  nothing.  He  stood  looking  in  vain; 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  167 

at  last  he  fired  at  a  yellow  spot  over  a  rock  at  the 
top  of  the  hill,  thinking  it  might  be  a  cougar's  head. 
At  that  moment  he  looked  round  at  the  dead 
cow  and  saw  the  yellow  head  of  the  cougar  looking 
over  it.  He  missed  his  shot  at  it,  but  the  beast 
sneaked  off  and  hid  behind  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  and 
as  its  hind  quarters  projected,  it  was  ignominiously 
shot  in  them. 

While  we  were  eating  our  sandwiches,  he  told  us 
about  this,  and  towards  the  end  of  his  account  he 
pulled  out  his  watch.  Its  large  size  and  weight  con- 
trasted with  the  slim  and  elegant  piece  of  jewellery 
he  usually  wore,  made  by  Breguet,  the  great 
French  watchmaker,  at  the  beginning  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  No  craftsman  has  since  been  able 
to  compress  the  delicate  lacework  of  its  mechanism 
into  so  small  a  space.  It  was  hardly  thicker  than  a 
silver  dollar.  I  inquired  where  it  was,  and  spoke  of 
it  in  terms  of  praise.  Reinhold  said — 

tl  Did  I  ever  tell  you  how  I  acquired  it,  and  my 
adventure  with  it  ?  " 

"  No,"  I  answered,  "  I  did  not  know  there  was 
any  story  of  yours  I  had  not  heard.  I  hope  it  is  as 
untrue  as  the  others.  Let  us  hear  it." 

Reinhold  received  my  invitation  with  good  nature 
and  began — 

"  When  I  was  at  Paris,  reading  for  my  degree  in 
Political  Science,  I  became  the  friend  of  a  fellow 
called  Dupont;  that  Breguet  watch  belonged  to  him. 
I  had  often  admired  it,  as  I  have  a  taste  for  objects 
of  vertu.  I  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to  offer  to  buy 
it  at  a  price  which  might  well  seem  fabulous.  But 


1 68  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

young  Dupont'seye  would  twinkle  behind  the  glasses 
of  his  pince-nez,  and  he  would  shake  his  head. 

"  Money  was  not  a  strong  enough  motive  to  him. 
You  may  have  heard  of  his  very  wealthy  father,  the 
famous  antisemitic  newspaper  proprietor  and  poli- 
tician, Dupont.  He  was  the  founder  of  his  great 
paper,  the  Aryan,  which  had  attained  an  enormous 
circulation  among  the  reactionary  classes,  and  was 
considered  to  be  the  organ  of  the  aristocracy. 
They  almost  believed  in  the  verbal  inspiration  of 
its  articles.  He  had  been  the  first  to  bring  the 
revival  of  the  Inquisition  into  the  sphere  of  practical 
politics,  for  his  antisemitic  ardour  was  furious.  I 
had  often  admired  his  ringing  tones  and  his 
forcible  eloquence  at  the  fashionable  meetings 
organised  by  the  Society  for  the  Promotion  of 
Autodafe"s. 

"  I  knew  the  Dupont  family  from  having  been 
given  a  letter  of  introduction  to  the  old  gentleman 
by  my  father,  who  had  once  befriended  him  at 
Berlin,  where  he  was  still  called  by  his  inherited 
name  of  Liebfraumilch,  which  he  changed  in 
France  to  that  of  Dupont.  The  odium  which 
weighed  upon  him  as  a  Jew  had  compelled  him  to 
leave  Germany  and  carry  his  fortunes  to  Paris.  On 
the  other  hand,  there  his  birth  had  greatly  helped 
him,  and  had  secured  him  the  assistance  of  the 
great  Jewish  bankers ;  he  had  not  been  ungrateful, 
and  had  drawn  into  their  commercial  enterprises 
the  classes  over  whom  he  possessed  such  unrivalled 
influence. 

"  But  though  he  had   discarded  the   hereditary 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  169 

name,  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  put  aside  his  here- 
ditary nose.  It  was  a  magnificent  organ,  fit' to  bear 
the  weight  of  mightiest  monarchies,  containing  the 
most  complicated  and  delicate  machinery.  He 
used  it  largely  instead  of  his  eyes,  which  had  grown 
purblind  with  excessive  work  in  the  glare  of  an 
editor's  room.  It  sensitively  transmitted  to  him 
the  trend  of  public  opinion,  and  warned  him  very 
early  on  which  side  lay  the  majorities  and  the 
victors.  By  putting  it  in  contiguity  with  men, 
he  could  pierce  to  the  inmost  recesses  of  their 
character;  women  fell  tranced  and  quivering  in  his 
arms  from  its  mere  contact.  The  nostrils  were 
wide  pumps  through  which  he  sucked  in  the 
pleasures  and  satisfactions  of  this  world.  Its  high 
dorsal  ridge,  seen  above  the  fray,  cheered  the  heart 
of  his  friends,  and  its  advance  carried  terror  among 
his  enemies.  Before  a  single  blast  of  it,  ancient 
institutions  fell  in  ruins,  and  established  reputations 
were  exploded.  It  was  at  once  the  instrument  and 
symbol  of  his  power. 

"  It  was  presumably,  too,  the  seat  of  his  mighty 
brain.  For  young  Dupont,  in  whom  the  paternal 
organ  had  much  degenerated,  had  a  mind  of  inferior 
capacity.  The  father  and  the  son  maintained  excel- 
lent relations;  but  their  manners  were  not  ordinary, 
and  they  said  unexpected  things.  One  evening  at 
dinner,  as  gouty  old  Dupont  was  drinking  water 
instead  of  wine,  I  asked  him  the  reason  of  his 
abstemiousness.  He  answered  knowingly — 

" '  You  see,  young  Reinhold,  I  do  not  wish  to  pay 
for  a  moment's  pleasure  by  hours  of  discomfort/ 


170  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

"  Young  Dupont  thought  he  should  say  something 
as  epigrammatic  as  his  father,  and  capped  him. 

" '  If  you  had  always  acted  on  that  principle, 
Father — '  but  he  stopped,  unable  to  find  any- 
thing clever  to  say. 

" '  You  would  not  have  been  here,  my  boy/  said 
the  old  man,  with  a  look  of  satisfaction  at  his  own 
neatness  of  speech. 

"But  if  tact  remained  a  mysterious  quality  to 
them,  they  had  strict  notions  of  the  duty  of  hos- 
pitality, and  young  Dupont  exerted  himself  to 
entertain  me  ;  he  had  a  certain  vivacity  of  mind  and 
his  company  was  not  disagreeable.  One  night  in 
particular,  after  a  formal  invitation,  he  offered  me 
a  most  sumptuous  dinner.  We  were  alone  together, 
and  I  was  sated  and  crammed  almost  as  soon 
as  the  long  procession  of  dishes  and  choice  wines 
had  begun  to  run  their  course.  But  I  endured 
the  discomfort  and  concealed  my  feelings,  for 
we  were  at  a  restaurant  of  culinary  fame,  which 
it  had  been  challenged  that  night  by  the  very 
gastronomic  young  Dupont  to  maintain  :  on  such 
an  occasion  I  realised  my  personal  feelings  were 
of  little  importance,  and  willingly  sacrificed  them, 
though  towards  the  end  of  the  feast  my  utmost 
powers  were  taxed.  For  my  further  enjoyment 
this  princely  young  man  had  reserved  the  large 
stage-box  at  a  theatre,  which  we  occupied  in 
solitary  state.  The  play  would  have  been  better 
if  we  had  had  worse  seats.  At  such  close  quarters 
no  illusions  were  possible.  We  could  see  the  paint 
daubed  on  the  actors'  faces  and  overhear  their 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  171 

private  conversations.  This  evening  of  extrava- 
gant pleasures  was  only  marred  by  one  incident, 
the  violent  quarrel  which  arose  between  young 
Dupont  and  the  cabman  transporting  us  to  the 
theatre  over  his  fare.  Dupont  revelled  in  this 
jarring  conflict  and  proved  himself  a  redoubtable 
controversialist.  He  stood  in  all  his  vast  cir- 
cumference blinking  behind  his  glasses,  while  the 
sharpest  sarcasms  of  the  cabman  glanced  off  his 
almost  impenetrable  hide,  and  he  would  have  pro- 
longed the  vociferous  wrangle  on  the  pavement  if 
I  had  not  had  the  pusillanimity  to  buy  off  the  man 
with  a  few  coppers.  This  bribe  hardly  pacified 
him,  burning  with  indignation  as  he  was  at  having 
been  offered  his  strict  legal  fare.  On  going  out  of 
the  theatre  I  wished  Dupont  good  night,  thanking 
him  for  his  generous  hospitality.  But  he  insisted  on 
my  becoming  his  guest  at  supper ;  and  though  this 
seemed  excessive  and  I  was  eager  to  get  home,  it  was 
impossible  for  me  to  refuse.  We  made  our  way  to 
another  restaurant  of  ringing  reputation,  which  had 
spread  so  far  that  all  Frenchmen  had  been  driven 
from  it  by  the  rich  foreigners  who  filled  it  nightly. 

"  There,  too,  the  cream  of  luxury  is  skimmed  and 
offered  to  your  delectation.  Passing  from  the 
windy  street,  we  entered  long  rooms  filled  with 
warmth  and  brightness ;  rich  white  napery  and 
silver  shed  their  lustre  under  the  light  of  a 
thousand  lamps.  The  aroma  of  cigars,  which  is 
the  smell  of  luxury,  and  the  rustle  of  silk  dresses, 
which  is  its  sound,  hung  about  us.  Round  the 
walls  were  large  painted  panels.  One  showed  a 


172  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

blue  sky  across  which  fair  women,  the  gauze 
slipping  from  their  white  shoulders,  danced  wildly 
hand  in  hand.  In  another  courtiers,  bewigged  and 
magnificent,  handed  silken  shepherdesses  into  a 
gilded  barge  which  lay  moored  on  the  misty  lake 
of  an  ancient  park.  Another  represented  the  dewy 
lawns  of  a  dark  garden  lit  by  the  flame  of  Chinese 
lanterns  :  on  the  lawn  a  group  of  musicians  in 
evening  dress  played  their  violins  rapturously,  and 
in  the  darkness  of  the  wood  nymphs  danced,  nude 
and  rosy.  Beneath  these  paintings  sat  men  and 
women  round  small  tables.  I  noticed  one  man 
whose  head  was  covered  with  thick  bristles,  and 
from  whose  mouth  rose  two  large  tusks :  he 
grunted  as  he  fed.  Another  half  asleep  wreathed 
his  long  proboscis  across  the  table ;  the  loose, 
grey  skin  round  his  small  eyes  was  all  wrinkled, 
and  two  wide  flapping  ears  fell  round  him.  One 
of  the  men  stared  at  me  with  vacant  face,  and 
went  on  munching,  the  little  beard  that  fell  from 
his  chin  wagging  up  and  down.  Many  of  them 
had  projecting  carnivorous  jaws,  especially  the 
women.  Their  dresses  were  gorgeous,  and  one 
in  particular,  a  flow  of  white  silk  and  lace,  drew 
my  attention  from  its  beauty.  But  the  head  of  its 
wearer  was  flat,  and  she  darted  her  tongue  as  she 
chattered  volubly  with  her  neighbour,  who  bore  a 
tawny,  flowing  mane  on  the  top  of  her  beautiful 
neck.  The  eyebrows  of  this  one  were  fair  and 
shaggy,  and  the  shifting  green  of  her  eyes  was 
terrible  ;  she  cracked  the  bones  of  her  food  between 
her  teeth.  A  black  little  creature  rolled  the  lewd 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  173 

dark  eyes  of  a  monkey  at  us.  I  felt  there  that 
under  the  tables  were  ursine  paws  and  cloven 
hoofs  and  coiled  folds  and  flicking  tails.  Among 
them  nimble  waiters  darted,  carrying  sparkling 
wines,  or  their  change,  gold  heaped  on  silver 
platters. 

"  We  could  not  find  room  at  first :  but  Dupont 
saw  in  a  far  corner  a  table  occupied  by  a  girl 
alone.  Her  hair  was  golden,  and  the  light  lingered 
in  her  rolled  tresses,  as  it  does  in  the  summer 
foliage  of  trees.  There  was  an  expression  of  melan- 
choly delicacy  in  her  face  which  embarrassed  us, 
but  receiving  her  permission  with  a  smile,  we  sat 
down.  Dupont,  taking  the  part  of  host,  ordered 
some  delicacies  for  supper.  The  conversation 
dragged,  even  when  champagne  was  in  our  glasses, 
and  Dupont,  with  the  intention  of  pleasing,  said 
to  the  fair  creature,  fixing  his  pince-nez  with  both 
hands  — 

"  '  How  much  money  do  you  make  ?  pretty  good 
business,  eh  ? ' 

"  She  lifted  her  heliotrope  eyes  in  astonishment 
at  him,  but  he  was  unconscious  of  any  guilt,  and 
asked  a  few  more  searching  questions.  Feeling 
innocent  of  offence,  he  appeared  to  be  outraged 
with  the  girl  when  she  directed  her  talk  more  to 
me,  the  guest,  than  to  him,  the  host.  But  he 
satisfied  his  resentment  when  the  bill  was  brought 
by  declaring  he  had  got  no  money  with  him,  and 
thus  compelling  me  to  pay  for  it. 

"  Consequently  his  social  conscience,  though  rather 
sluggish,  must  have  grown  uneasy,  for  he  appeared 


174  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

at  my  hotel  a  few  mornings  afterwards,  and  in  a 
most  conciliatory  way  offered  to  let  me  have  the 
Breguet  watch  which  I  had  often  admired.  This 
offer  was  evidently  intended  as  a  reparation,  and 
he  alluded  to  his  behaviour  in  a  tone  of  excuse. 
I  accepted  his  offer,  and  sat  down  and  wrote  a 
cheque  then  and  there.  I  was  handling  the  ex- 
quisite jewel  which  had  just  become  my  own, 
when  Dupont  tapped  me  on  the  shoulder  and  said 
genially — 

" '  You  have  got  a  pretty  good  bargain,  my  boy. 
I  have  only  charged  you  twenty-five  per  cent,  more 
than  I  gave  for  it  myself.' 

"  He  buttoned  his  coat  up  over  the  cheque,  and 
departed,  well  pleased  at  his  ingenious  diplomacy. 

"  My  new  possession  gave  me  at  first  more  care 
than  satisfaction.  The  newspapers  of  Paris  are 
crowded  with  accounts  of  burglaries  and  assaults 
and  murders.  On  my  first  arrival  I  thought  all  its 
citizens  were  brigands,  which  was  unfair  to  those 
industrious  men  :  on  the  other  hand,  I  had  not 
learned  to  do  justice  to  the  style  or  imagination 
which  grace  its  journalists.  In  my  youthful  alarm 
I  was  always  on  my  guard  and  looked  with  sus- 
picion on  any  one  I  met  after  dark,  and  felt  every 
half-hour  at  my  waistcoat  pocket.  After  a  time  I 
grew  accustomed  to  the  carrying  of  this  valuable, 
and  it  became  less  a  source  of  discomfort  to  me. 

"  One  night  in  July  I  had  been  to  an  interesting 
performance  at  a  building  on  the  Boulevards,  which 
had  once  been  a  theatre,  though  on  its  stage  no  more 
plays  were  now  produced  :  they  had  been  sue- 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  175 

ceeded  by  a  strange  mixture  of  buffoonery,  dancing, 
and  trivial  songs.  It  was  an  admirable  arrange- 
ment, and  far  superior  to  the  old  representations. 
The  performers  were  freed  from  the  arduous  and 
almost  impossible  task  of  imitating  life,  and  no 
duty  was  imposed  on  them  but  that  of  strutting, 
in  the  case  of  the  men,  and  mincing,  in  the  case  of 
the  women.  The  change  was  even  more  beneficial 
to  the  spectator,  on  whom  no  exertion  of  the  mind, 
or  even  attention,  was  any  longer  imposed.  For 
a  brief  space  they  were  released  from  all  earthly 
cares  and  tasted  perfect  happiness.  Among  the 
actors  and  actresses  who  appeared  and  re-appeared 
on  the  stage  without  reason,  one  alone,  the  leading 
actress,  could  charm.  She  could  not  be  less  than 
fifty  years  old,  but  by  a  perfection  of  her  art,  she 
simulated  the  graceful  awkwardness  and  unaffected 
candour  of  youth.  Her  eyes  even  wore  its  brilliance 
and  her  cheeks  an  adolescent  bloom.  When  on  the 
boards  she  fixed  all  eyes  which  dwelt  carelessly  on 
the  others  at  her  departure.  In  one  scene  in  par- 
ticular she  had  touched  me,  when  with  dark  eyes 
of  supplication  she  knelt  imploring  the  perfectly 
ridiculous  hero.  About  half-way  through  the  piece 
I  made  my  way  through  the  happy  throng  in  the 
stalls.  Never  had  night  and  its  sombre  plumage 
seemed  to  me  more  beautiful  than  after  this  musical 
comedy,  and  I  followed  star  after  star  in  the  dark 
firmament.  It  was  still  warm  from  the  day,  and 
opening  my  coat,  I  determined  to  walk  and  see  the 
illuminations,  for  it  was  the  night  of  the  National 
Festival. 


176  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

"  I  made  a  circuit  that  took  me  to  the  embankment 
of  the  Seine,  where  I  could  see  the  dark  velvet 
of  its  stream  shoot  under  the  far-flung  arches  of 
the  bridge.  Up  the  river  the  island  of  the  Cite 
and  the  towers  of  Notre  Dame  stood  moored  like 
a  ship  in  mid-stream,  blazing  to  its  topmost  mast. 
Passy  on  its  heights,  in  the  opposite  direction,  was 
suspended  like  a  shining  city  in  mid-air.  Along 
the  asphalts  of  the  Champs  Elysees  the  festoons  of 
lamps,  clustered  and  hung  like  loads  of  glittering 
fruit,  poured  their  light  on  its  broad  spaces.  After 
taking  my  fill  of  all  these  wonders,  I  crossed  the 
Place  de  la  Concorde  under  the  terrific  glare  of 
the  arc  lights,  and  passed  in  among  the  lawns  and 
shrubs  of  the  Champs  Elysees.  Their  cool  gloom 
was  all  the  more  welcome  after  the  artficial  day- 
light which  reigned  outside. 

"  Though  I  stared  at  the  dark  masses  of  shrubs  in 
my  solitary  walk,  I  did  not  see  them  :  their  place 
was  taken  in  my  mind  by  the  dark  eyes  of  the 
actress,  raised  in  their  adorable  look  of  appeal. 
I  was  sunk  in  this  vision  when  a  man,  undis- 
tinguishable  in  the  obscurity,  started  from  behind 
a  tree  and  darted  at  my  waistcoat.  I  felt  for  my 
watch  :  it  was  gone,  and  the  man  was  flying  from 
me.  I  started  after  him,  and  as  he  was  not  swift 
of  foot  was  soon  up  upon  him.  But  he  doubled 
and  turned  several  times,  using  his  knowledge  of 
the  place.  A  last  he  crossed  an  avenue  and  dis- 
appeared up  a  dark  and  narrow  street,  where  I 
followed  him,  and  was  on  the  point  of  seizing  him, 
when  he  stumbled,  and  stumbling,  turned  to  face 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  177 

me.  Almost  involuntarily,  for  I  could  see  nothing, 
I  dealt  him  a  blow  in  the  face  with  my  fist  which 
was  stunning,  for  it  had  all  the  weight  of  my  body 
and  the  impetus  of  my  run  in  it.  He  staggered 
against  the  wall,  cowering,  and  I  shouted  to  him  in 
very  bad  French — 

"  '  Give  me  up  my  watch  !  give  it  up,  you  scoun- 
drel ! ' 

"  He  poured  out  a  torrent  of  words,  which  I  was 
not  familiar  enough  with  the  language  to  under- 
stand, only  the  word  watch  seemed  to  re-occur.  I 
shook  him  by  the  arm  as  he  crouched,  and  shouted 
in  my  jargon — 

"  '  My  watch  !  give  it  up  ! ' 

"  He  went  on  talking,  and  I  clamouring,  till  at  last, 
exasperated,  I  lifted  my  fist  again  in  a  threatening 
way.  At  this  the  wretch,  stricken  with  fear,  put 
his  hand  in  his  waistcoat  pocket  and  thrust  a  watch 
into  mine.  Without  seeing  it,  I  grasped  it  and 
let  him  go.  He  vanished  at  once  into  the  dark 
again,  and  I  dropped  what  I  had  recovered  into  the 
large  pocket  of  my  greatcoat. 

"  I  returned  to  my  hotel,  which  was  not  far  off, 
pluming  myself  on  my  achievement.  My  com- 
placency was  overflowing,  and  I  looked  in  the  hall 
for  some  one  to  whom  I  could  relate  my  exploit, 
but  as  there  was  no  acquaintance  of  mine  to  be 
seen,  I  went  upstairs  to  my  bedroom.  On  entering 
it,  I  turned  on  the  electric  light.  My  eye  was  at 
once  caught  by  the  round  gold  disc  of  my  precious 
Bre*guet  watch  on  the  dressing-table,  where  it  had  lain 
since  I  had  left  it  there,  as  I  dressed  for  dinner." 

M 


178  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

I  always  thought  Reinhold's  stories  took  up  a 
good  deal  of  time,  and  as  soon  as  he  had  stopped, 
said — 

"  Thanks  very  much  ;  but  we  had  better  get  a 
move  on  us,  or  we  shan't  be  home  before  dark." 

The  little  band  of  donkeys,  after  grazing  a  little, 
had,  as  usual,  come  to  a  standstill  in  a  group. 
With  their  disproportionately  large  heads  and 
small  bodies,  they  looked  like  forest  dwarfs  in  a 
fairy  tale,  humble,  grotesque,  and  faithful.  I  went 
and  hauled  the  first  donkey  to  the  bed  with  the 
intention  of  packing  it  on  him ;  while  Reinhold 
and  I  straightened  it  out  to  lift  it  on  him,  he  stood 
by  with  a  dreamy  eye,  wishing  he  had  been  born  in 
a  different  place  and  his  lot  cast  in  a  different 
sphere,  far  from  saddles  and  packs,  to  live  among 
the  wild  donkeys  who  fleet  the  time  carelessly  in 
the  lonely  brush  and  among  the  cliffs,  where  the 
tender  young  shoots  of  grass  are  thick,  and  grazing 
and  playing  the  only  business.  We  placed  the  mass 
of  blankets  and  tarpaulin  on  his  back,  and  throwing 
the  proper  hitch  with  the  rope,  laced  it  round  him  as 
if  it  had  been  a  corset.  To  draw  him  in  tight,  for 
donkeys  astutely  inflate  themselves  as  soon  as  they 
feel  the  girth,  we  each  put  a  foot  against  him  on 
each  side  and  pulled  with  all  our  strength.  During 
these  operations  he  remained  abstracted,  distended, 
and  indifferent. 

As  soon  as  our  cavalcade  was  in  motion  Bel- 
phcebe  thought  it  right  to  thank  Reinhold  for  his 
story,  which  I  had  not  given  her  time  to  do.  She 
said — 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  179 

"  I  think  that  is  a  very  amusing  story.  But  did 
you  then  have  two  watches  ?" 

"  I  did,"  answered  Reinhold. 

"  That  poor  man  !  "  was  her  exclamation.  "  Ought 
you  not  to  have  tried  and  found  him  and  given  it 
back  to  him?" 

Then,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  she  added — 

"  These  stories  are  very  amusing  you  tell  us  ; 
I  wish  I  could  remember  them  all.  Why  don't 
you  write  all  about  this  life  out  here  in  the 
West  ?  " 

On  this,  as  on  all  other  subjects,  Reinhold  had  a 
theory,  complete  and  ready,  clear-cut"  and  squared. 
He  said — 

"  An  adventurous  life  unfits  a  man  to  write  a 
book  of  adventure.  An  expert  in  adventure  writes 
technically.  He  has  learnt  that  the  weather  and 
the  food,  the  peculiarities  of  the  country,  and  the 
qualities  of  the  weapons,  all  dull,  prosaic  things, 
are  the  most  important  ;  narrow  escapes,  breath- 
less moments,  sudden  perils,  are  of  trivial  interest. 
But  the  public  does  not  care  for  technical  works. 
It  wants  sensation  not  instruction.  So  it  is  that 
the  journals  of  explorers  are  dull,  and  deserve  the 
neglect  they  suffer  from.  The  best  books  of  ad- 
venture are  written  by  authors  like  Stevenson,  who 
caught  cold  every  time  his  feet  got  wet.  He  only 
knew  Death  and  his  grim  visage  from  what  he  had 
seen  of  him  at  funerals.  So,  I  take  an  example  to 
illustrate  my  theory,  he  can  hold  his  reader  in  an 
agony  of  suspense  when  he  describes  a  murder. 
He  paints  the  expression  of  the  murderer,  the 


i8o  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

whizz  of  the  knife,  the  cry  of  the  victim,  the  terror 
of  the  spectator.  If  he  had  known  anything  of 
what  he  was  writing  about  he  would  have  noted 
the  exact  number  of  yards  the  knife  was  thrown, 
its  weight  and  shape,  the  position  of  the  wound 
especially,  and  the  flow  of  blood,  the  extinction  of 
life  and  the  disposal  of  the  corpse.  It  would  have 
been  more  like  an  inquest  than  a  novel." 

"  But  I  like  reading  Stevenson  very  much,"  was 
Belphoebe's  comment. 

"  So  Stevenson,"  Reinhold  continued,  "  is  infin- 
itely less  exciting  than  Jules  Verne.  Unfortunately 
for  his  literary  fame,  Stevenson  had  travelled  and 
seen  some  of  the  world.  Jules  Verne  had  the  in- 
estimable advantage  of  having  never  set  his  foot 
outside  his  native  town  of  Amiens.  He  was  even 
careful  to  avoid  ever  seeing  Paris,  lest  it  should 
wither  the  fine  flower  of  his  imagination.  Thus  he 
enthralled  his  whole  generation  with  accounts  of 
Africa  and  Australia,  of  all  climates  and  all  time, 
the  earth  and  the  waters  under  the  earth.  Stevenson 
himself  flags  when  he  tells  stories  of  the  South 
Seas:  a  heavy  weight  of  first-hand  knowledge 
handicaps  him.  But  how  thrilling  he  is  when  he 
writes  of  the  eighteenth  century,  of  which  he  knew 
but  little,  and  still  more  thrilling  about  the  fifteenth, 
of  which  he  knows  nothing  at  all.  I  think  his 
Highland  stories  would  have  been  much  improved 
had  he  not  been  a  Scotsman. 

"  The  poets  support  my  view  still  more  strongly. 
Readers  of  Homer  skip  the  fights,  and  the  wealth 
of  surgical  poetry.  They  are  bored;  the  poet's 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  181 

appreciation  of  the  effect  of  a  heavy  spear  on  a 
man's  ribs  was  professional.  Spenser  spent  a 
portion  of  his  life  fighting  with  armour  on  horse- 
back. The  elaborate  and  prolonged  carving  of 
knights  in  the  '  Faerie  Queene '  is  tedious.  But 
we  read  about  knights  with  pleasure  in  Tennyson 
or  Matthew  Arnold,  who  never  saw  a  horse  except 
from  the  interior  of  a  hansom  cab." 

His  literary  criticisms  were  checked  by  our 
donkeys.  We  again  had  reached  a  slope,  down 
which  our  little  charges,  after  the  manner  of  their 
kind,  went  at  a  run.  The  first  donkey  loaded  with 
the  bed  picked  his  way  with  some  deliberation. 
The  second  and  third,  inseparably  connected 
though  reluctant,  went  down  it  at  a  gallop,  bump- 
ing against  each  other  like  india-rubber  dolls. 
Jack,  who  still  nursed  the  fantastic  ambition  of 
being  thought  the  Attila  of  donkeys,  followed 
them  with  flattened  ears,  kicking  at  invisible  ob- 
jects. At  the  bottom  of  the  hill  he  stopped  dead, 
satisfied  that  he  had  spread  terror  around  him 
and  strengthened  his  reputation  as  the  scourge 
of  quadrupeds.  He  would  have  been  disappointed 
to  know  what  a  look  of  elderly  mildness  he  wore. 

The  pasture  in  which  they  were  to  be  left  we 
were  now  approaching.  It  had  been  the  scene  of 
a  misadventure  of  mine  when  I  first  came  into  the 
country  and  had  all  a  tenderfoot's  misjudgment  of 
time  and  distance  and  difficulties.  There  was  a 
horse  in  it  I  wanted  to  get ;  I  was  at  the  Flying  V 
Ranch,  about  eighteen  miles  off,  from  the  owner  of 
which  I  borrowed  a  horse  to  ride  over  and  fetch 


1 82  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

my  own  horse.  It  was  late  when  I  started,  for  the 
horse  was  unshod,  and  I  had  to  shoe  him  all  round  ; 
the  sun  had  begun  to  decline  when  I  got  to  my 
destination,  where  it  was  difficult  to  find  anything, 
seamed  as  the  place  was  with  little  canyons,  and 
covered  with  that  thick  brush  of  live  oak  which 
conceals  everything.  An  hour  of  search  passed 
before  I  saw  my  horse,  grazing  with  two  others 
and  a  black  mule.  He  was  "gentle,"  that  is,  he 
used  to  know  me,  and  I  thought  I  would  walk  up 
to  him ;  but  he  had  forgotten  me,  and  when  I  ap- 
proached the  group  on  foot,  the  black  mule  broke 
away  and  the  rest  followed.  Instead  of  driving  the 
whole  bunch  down  into  a  corral  at  the  other  end  of 
the  pasture,  in  which  I  could  easily  have  caught  him, 
I  took  the  foolish  decision  to  try  and  rope  him  in 
the  open.  I  chased  him,  but  my  own  horse,  though 
he  tried  hard,  was  not  fast  enough  ;  having  no 
leggings,  I  got  my  knees  and  shins  bruised  painfully 
in  the  oak  brush,  and  I  missed  the  only  possible 
throw  I  made  at  him.  After  hunting  him  and 
losing  him  again  in  the  brush,  I  had  to  change  my 
plan  and  drive  them  all  slowly  down  to  the  corral, 
where  I  caught  him  easily  and  saddled  him.  All 
this  had  taken  time,  and  it  was  now  late  in  the 
afternoon,  and  what  was  worse,  the  sky  had  be- 
come overcast  with  thick  clouds.  I  started  off 
back,  riding  my  fresh  horse  and  leading  the  other. 
Unfortunately  he  had  never  been  broken  to  lead 
and  kept  pulling  on  the  rope,  and  about  every  half- 
mile  threw  his  weight  on  it,  stuck  his  feet  in  the 
ground,  and  stared  at  me  with  snorting  nostrils. 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  183 

On  these  recurring  occasions,  I  had  to  get  off  and 
beat  him,  and  then  he  would  go  better  for  a  time. 
So  the  progress  we  made  was  very  slow.  I  was  a 
good  way  from  the  ranch  when  darkness  overtook 
me,  and  at  the  same  time  a  Rocky  Mountain  storm 
burst  on  me.  The  rain  poured  in  torrents  and  the 
thunder  rolled  apparently  a  few  yards  from  my 
ears.  The  darkness  that  fell  in  the  woods  was  im- 
penetrable, but  about  every  fifteen  seconds  there 
would  be  a  blinding  flash  of  lightning.  In  or- 
dinary circumstances  I  might  have  admired  the 
sudden  instantaneous  glimpses  of  the  vast  spread- 
ing scenery  under  that  light,  but  I  was  drenched, 
angry,  and  soon  completely  lost,  for  I  could  no 
longer  see  the  trail  I  had  been  following,  which 
was  my  only  clue,  that  part  of  the  country  being 
unfamiliar  to  me.  I  would  watch  to  catch  sight  of 
the  faint  path  as  the  lightning  illuminated  every- 
thing, but  the  brightness  was  too  strong,  and  I 
soon  had  to  close  my  eyes  at  the  flashes.  They 
seemed  to  be  playing  not  far  from  me,  though  I 
never  heard  them  strike  any  trees  in  my  neighbour- 
hood. I  still  pushed  on,  but  it  is  difficult  to  get 
down  to  the  Flying  V  Ranch  in  the  canyon,  as 
there  is  only  one  ridge  down  which  you  can  de- 
scend ;  elsewhere  the  sides  of  the  canyon  are  sheer 
cliffs.  I  reached  these  cliffs  and  could  hear  the 
rumble  of  the  Gila  far  below  me.  For  a  long  time 
I  wandered  up  and  down  trying  in  the  dark  to  find 
the  right  and  only  ridge.  But  each  time  I  found 
myself  on  the  edge  of  an  abyss,  and  nowhere 
could  I  see  the  lights  of  the  ranch.  After  a  last 


1 84  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

try  I  resigned  myself  to  sleeping  out,  though  the 
rain  was  still  pouring  on  me.  Unsaddling  my 
horse  I  cut  my  rope  in  two,  and  with  either  half 
tied  the  poor  beasts  to  trees.  Then  arose  what  was 
really  the  critical  question  :  would  I  be  able  to 
light  a  fire  ?  If  so,  I  could  keep  pretty  dry  and 
comfortable.  I  was  in  a  forest  of  pine  trees,  but 
the  wood  was  so  wet  that  I  knew  I  had  no  chance 
of  getting  it  to  burn  unless  I  found  a  piece  of  pitch- 
pine,  the  rich  root  of  a  dead  tree,  resinous,  full  of 
gum.  Nothing  else  would  kindle  in  that  downpour. 
I  could  see  nothing,  however,  and  therefore  could 
not  find  my  piece  of  pitchpine.  Now  pitch  is 
heavier  than  the  other  wood,  and  the  richer  it  is, 
the  heavier  it  is.  In  my  difficulty  I  fortunately  re- 
membered this;  so  I  groped  about  for  a  long  time, 
fumbling  with  the  broken  branches  and  sticks  that 
strewed  the  ground,  and  weighing  each  one  in  my 
hands.  At  last  I  found  a  heavy  lump,  unmistak- 
ably pitch.  I  took  off  my  hat,  and  rasped  off  long 
shavings  into  it  to  keep  them  dry,  and  then  smashed 
off  long  slithers  of  wood  against  a  stump.  With 
infinite  precaution  I  applied  a  match  to  these  shav- 
ings, placed  the  slithers  upon  them,  and  protecting 
them  from  the  rain  with  my  hat,  carefully  nursed 
these  feeble  flames.  By  degrees  I  built  up  a  huge 
bonfire.  I  had  placed  it  near  a  high  rock  which 
would  reflect  and  hold  the  heat.  I  spread  one 
saddle  blanket  by  this  rock,  covered  myself  with 
the  other,  and  made  a  pillow  of  my  saddle.  I  was 
soon  warm  and  dry  enough,  but  very  hungry,  not 
having  had  any  food  the  whole  day  since  early 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  185 

that  morning,  and  not  having  any  with  me.  About 
every  two  hours  the  fire  would  die  out  and  the 
cold  would  wake  me,  but  I  would  pile  up  another 
bonfire  and  drop  to  sleep  again.  Shortly  before 
dawn  the  storm  had  overblown.  As  soon  as  light 
broke  and  things  grew  visible,  I  ran  up  to  a  little 
eminence  close  by  to  see  where  I  was.  There  ran 
the  very  trail  I  had  lost.  I  had  slept  within  thirty 
yards  of  it,  and  if  I  had  made  one  more  try  I  would 
have  got  the  right  ridge.  I  saddled  up  and  reached 
the  ranch  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 


CHAPTER   IX 

I  sought  the  maiden  Solitude  :  she  dwells 

In  the  untrodden,  wild,  and  distant  heights 

Amid  the  pine-woods  and  the  mountain  dells. 

She  leaves  the  sandy  plains  and  all  their  sights, 

The  nations  of  the  prairie  dogs,  the  flights 

Of  gorged  hawks,  the  skulking  furtive  chace 

Of  coyote  lean.     The  snow-capped  chain  invites 

Her  steps  :  she  goes  and  turns  her  eager  face 

From  the  broad  prairie's  glare  and  huge  unshadowed  space. 

The  dark-eyed  deer  hear  her  approaching  pace 

In  the  lone  thickets  where,  in  timid  band, 

They  crop  the  growing  shoots.     With  sprightly  grace 

And  glancing  head  they  leave  the  deep  woodland, 

And  thrust  their  muzzles  soft  into  her  hand. 

In  the  slim  dappled  creatures  friends  she  finds, 

And  they  with  lowered  heads  will  patient  stand 

While  she  with  quick  and  healing  hand  unbinds 

The  fur  that  round  their  horns  in  burning  layers  winds. 

Her  limbs  are  slender,  delicately  made, 

But  in  a  graceful  mould  of  vigour  knit. 

Her  heart  is  tender,  but  the  gentle  maid 

Lives  in  this  country  wild  without  a  spirit 

Of  fear ;  nor  is  her  youthful  soul  unfit 

For  the  rough  uses  of  her  mountain  home, 

Beneath  the  icy  stars  alone  to  sit, 

To  leap  the  stream  where  roaring  waters  foam, 

And  in  the  spectral  woods  at  twilight  hour  to  roam. 

1 86 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  187 

Her  forehead,  white  and  high,  is  smoothly  wrought 

With  history  of  calm  unruffled  days ; 

But  its  too  spacious  breadth,  surcharged  with  thought, 

Upon  the  oval  of  her  sweet  face  lays 

A  shadow  faint,  and  on  her  features  weighs, 

Till  the  long-fringed  lids  she  meekly  keeps 

Upon  the  secret  of  her  eyes  always, 

Lift  slowly,  and  reveal  the  liquid  deeps 

Of  her  mild  eyes  that  the  long,  idle  day-dream  steeps. 

I  heard  her  trailing  robes  rustle  and  pass, 

And  saw  her  ankles  in  the  distance  gleam 

Amid  the  mighty  pines,  whose  rooted  mass, 

With  branches  intertwined  of  mighty  beam, 

Pillars  of  the  cathedral  forest  seem. 

The  floor,  of  needles  smooth,  was  hardly  stirred, 

When  down  those  aisles  she  moved  in  vacant  dream, 

As  noiseless  as  the  swift  escaping  bird 

Who,  fluttering  'mid  the  leaves  unseen,  by  men  is  heard. 

She  haunts  the  high  and  dizzy  ledge  that  lies 
Where  cliffs  to  heaven  their  wall  of  rock  do  raise, 
To  watch  the  clouds  that  drift  in  sunny  skies 
Like  isles,  and  trace  their  headlands  and  their  bays, 
And  mountains  piled  in  thousand  various  ways ; 
How  th'  eagle  on  his  lonely  path  does  fare, 
Magnificent,  she  views  with  curious  gaze, 
Whose  mighty  wings  outspread  his  state  do  bear 
Through  his  serene  wide  empire  of  the  middle  air. 

Unfaltering  and  calm  her  eyes  she  bends 

Far  down  below  to  where  the  torrent  leaps. 

With  careful  steps  and  firm  she  now  descends 

Along  the  narrow,  crumbling  trail,  which  creeps 

Betwixt  the  abyss  and  overhanging  steeps. 

Into  broad,  spreading  vales  she  gladly  passes, 

Where  flowers  of  every  hue  she  gaily  reaps ; 

The  regiments  of  blooms  in  brilliant  masses 

Lift  their  tall  heads  and  proud  amid  th'  odorous  grasses. 


1 88  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

Pent  in  between  the  rocks  the  waters  sweep 

Along  their  narrow  course  with  rapture  bold, 

Or  lie  in  bubbling  pools,  transparent,  deep, 

Cut  in  the  living  rock,  where  trout  do  hold 

Their  games  and  flash  their  coats  all  dropped  with  gold. 

Upon  this  stony  edge  she  oft  will  sit 

To  see  the  stream  in  frothy  anger  rolled, 

The  playful  fish  who  quickly  glance  and  flit 

To  show  their  scaly  skins  with  shifting  colours  lit." 

I  LAY  at  full  length  on  the  ground  leaning  against 
a  pile  of  pack-saddles  and  blankets  in  the  camp 
of  Hay,  the  bear-trapper.  Camp  is  a  magnificent 
name,  but  ours  did  not  deserve  all  its  classical 
and  military  associations,  far  less  perhaps  than 
other  Rocky  Mountain  camps ;  far  less  than  a  big 
round-up  camp  with  a  dozen  cowpunchers  and 
an  imposing  remuda  of  eighty  or  ninety  horses. 
The  elements  of  a  camp  are  always  the  same — 
materials  to  sleep  in,  a  heap  of  blankets  in  a  tar- 
paulin; materials  to  cook  with  and  food,  a  few 
pans  and  flour  and  other  things  ;  but  as  there  were 
only  two  of  us,  the  volume  of  these  materials  was 
small.  In  an  hour  it  could  be  made  to  vanish  with 
ourselves  on  the  backs  of  donkeys,  and  nothing 
would  be  left  to  mark  our  habitation  but  a  patch  of 
grey  ashes  and  a  few  tin  cans. 

We  were  camping  on  a  piece  of  open  ground 
which  was  surrounded  by  the  illimitable  sea  of  firs 
and  pines,  on  the  edge  of  it,  under  the  trees.  To 
the  spring  which  flowed  in  its  centre  the  deer  came 
at  sunrise  to  water,  feeling  no  alarm,  for  our  camp 
was  then  motionless.  I  used  to  wake  of  a  morning, 
and,  looking  up,  see  the  first  rays  of  the  sun  striking 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  189 

the  ground  and  turning  the  dew  to  jewels  ;  the  place 
became  a  glittering  field  of  diamonds,  and  through  it 
the  bands  of  tall  deer,  with  their  light  and  graceful 
elegance  and  anxious  steps,  were  coming  and  going. 
The  scene  moved  even  Hay,  who  was  not  very 
susceptible  to  aesthetic  emotions,  and  he  emphatic- 
ally declared  that  whatever  meat  we  might  want 
we  should  not  touch  one  of  these. 

Hay  had  a  mule  and  two  donkeys.  I  had 
brought  four  donkeys  with  me  from  the  ranch,  the 
three  black  donkeys,  the  first,  the  second,  and  the 
third,  and  Jack.  For  bear-trapping  purposes  these 
animals  are  altogether  preferable  to  horses.  They 
stray  less  from  camp  at  night ;  they  are  more  en- 
during and  need  less  care ;  they  do  not  have  to  be 
shod,  and,  like  dragons,  they  almost  live  on  air. 
They  go  slowly,  and  looking  for  bear  sign  you 
want  to  go  slowly  ;  compared  to  them  the  horse  or 
the  mule  is  a  coward  and  a  fool,  maddened  even 
by  the  smell  of  a  bear ;  but  the  donkey  carries  a 
magnanimous  heart  in  a  grotesque  body,  and  his 
generous  soul  disdains  all  bears,  alive  or  dead,  and 
every  other  beast,  the  wolf  and  the  cougar,  who 
terrify  and  prey  upon  horses ;  nor  will  these 
enemies  approach  the  dangerous  little  hoofs  and 
their  cool  possessors.  Even  human  beings  have 
very  little  prestige  with  them.  They  refuse  to  do 
even  their  bidding  unless  their  own  judgment 
approves  of  it,  and  they  persist  in  their  refusal  with 
an  inert  and  almost  invincible  obstinacy.  They 
have  too  much  sense  to  allow  man  to  abuse  their 
strength  as  he  does  that  of  the  horse,  overloading 


190  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

them,  or  driving  them  until  they  drop,  or  making 
them  run  at  his  wish.  This  just  sense  of  their  true 
interests  mankind  in  its  blindness  has  taken  for 
want  of  understanding,  and  turned  the  name  of  the 
most  intrepid  and  wisest  of  quadrupeds  into  a 
synonym  for  stupidity.  What  internal  laughter 
must  shake  these  little  sages  when  they  realise  the 
folly  of  man  ! 

The  donkeys  at  that  moment  stood  in  solemn 
conclave  in  the  spot  where  they  could  find  the  most 
dust,  flies,  and  heat,  and  I  watched  them  under  my 
eyelids.  They  had  formed  a  circle,  and  remained 
motionless,  some  with  an  air  of  distant  reflection, 
others  of  deep  injury.  The  first  donkey  chewed 
slowly  at  a  tin  can,  and  had  almost  got  the  label  off,  a 
tit-bit  he  meant  to  eat.  Having  achieved  his  object, 
which  had  long  engrossed  his  attention,  he  became 
as  statuesque  as  his  companions.  The  second 
donkey  at  last  brought  his  meditations  to  an  end  ; 
his  left  ear  inclined  itself,  the  sign  of  a  momentous 
decision,  and  he  moved  off  browsing  with  the 
others  in  his  train.  I  hoped  they  would  play 
together,  but  they  were  hungry  and  busy  with  some 
clumps  of  rich  grass.  Gradually,  however,  the 
second  donkey  moved  into  the  neighbourhood  of 
camp,  where  there  was  always  a  chance  of  finding 
something  good,  a  little  spilt  meal,  or  flour,  or  bits 
of  newspaper;  for  a  whole  copy  of  the  Times  would 
have  been  a  gulp,  a  mere  hors  (fcBuvrey  to  him.  On 
the  other  hand,  camp  was  forbidden  ground,  and  he 
had  often  been  beaten  for  trespass.  So  he  pretended 
his  approach  was  accidental,  and  that  he  drew  near 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  191 

under  the  attraction  of  successive  clumps  *of  grass. 
But  he  kept  a  rolling  eye  on  my  movements. 

He  was  particularly  cautious  on  that  day,  for 
punishment  had  overtaken  him  and  all  his  band 
only  a  short  time  before.  There  is  a  law,  and  it  is  a 
fundamental  law  of  the  race  of  donkeys,  fixed  and 
unchangeable,  and  religiously  obeyed,  which  com- 
pels all  donkeys  to  run  away  once  a  fortnight. 
Our  donkeys  had  duly  observed  this  commandment 
the  day  before.  The  little  company  had  started  off 
long  before  sunrise  one  behind  the  other,  travelling 
without  pause  or  digression,  as  fast  as  their  hobbled 
legs  could  carry  them.  Failing  to  find  them  near 
our  camp,  we  had  taken  up  their  trail  and  followed 
it.  It  was  past  noon  when,  hot,  parched,  and 
furious,  we  had  come  up  to  an  old  deserted  log 
cabin.  The  tracks  led  straight  to  the  threshold,  and 
there  inside  were  the  donkeys  solemnly  standing  in 
a  circle.  This  grave  and  silent  senate  eyed  each 
other  with  majestic  dignity,  pondering  some  deep 
decree  to  save  the  Asinine  State.  The  first  donkey 
alone,  through  a  chink,  surveyed  us  approaching  in 
tumultuous  haste.  But  their  august  attitude  had 
availed  them  little.  Armed  with  stout  sticks  of  oak 
we  burst  into  the  hut  with  barbarian  violence,  and 
laid  on  right  and  left  till  our  strength  was  exhausted. 
Under  this  outrage  the  donkeys  had  shown  Roman 
dignity  and  fortitude,  invariably  receiving  the  blows 
aimed  at  their  heads  on  the  other  extremity.  Our 
fury  recoiled  on  ourselves. 

The  sun  had  now  fallen  low  towards  the  western 
pines,  and  I  set  out  to  gather  wood  for  the  fire. 


192  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

The  first  wreaths  of  smoke  had  hardly  begun  to 
ascend  when  Hay  appeared  in  sight,  with  his 
Winchester  in  one  hand  and  a  catch  of  fish  in  the 
other;  small  mountain  trout,  strung  through  their 
gills  along  a  fork  of  willow. 

Trapping  bear  is  not  a  sport ;  it  is  not  followed 
for  pleasure;  the  preservation  of  the  game  is  not 
an  object.  The  trapper  does  not  even  care  for  its 
magnificent  trophies.  He  is  a  workman  employed 
on  a  ranch,  though  his  labour,  like  nearly  all  ranch 
labour,  is  casual.  On  big  cattle  ranches  regularly, 
and  on  small  ranches  occasionally,  the  foreman 
hires  a  trapper  to  kill  out  bear,  wolves,  and  cougar, 
the  yellow  panther.  Except  in  a  few  privileged  and 
protected  spots,  the  bear  will  be  extinguished  as 
completely  as  the  buffalo  within  the  next  quarter  of 
a  century.  For  example,  in  1901  Hay  had  killed 
twenty-nine  in  five  months.  This  is  extermination; 
for  these  animals,  especially  bear,  interfere  with  the 
cattle  industry,  the  staple  of  the  country,  and  it  was 
to  find  room  for  their  cows  that  the  Americans 
pushed  forward  from  the  west  and  east  to  the 
centre  of  the  continent.  It  can  only  be  a. quarter 
of  a  century  ago  that  the  tide  of  cattle  reached  the 
Rocky  Mountains  and  the  habitations  of  the  bear. 
Only  gradually  did  the  latter  learn  that  the  invaders 
were  good  to  eat ;  now  they  almost  live  off  them. 
They  interfere  seriously  with  business  ;  in  some 
places  they  make  it  impossible,  and  as  in  our 
society  this  is  an  indefensible  crime,  their  destruc- 
tion is  inevitable. 

Even  now  beef  is  not  their  entire  diet,  which  is 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  193 

otherwise  most  pastoral,  innocent,  almost  Elysian. 
The  acorns  are  their  feast  during  the  autumn,  and 
on  this  rich  food  they  gorge  themselves.  A  bear 
will  tear  down  a  stripling  oak  and  roll  in  its  foliage, 
lazily  stripping  off  its  load  of  acorns.  The  wild 
grape  is  also  a  luxury  of  theirs  which  they  find 
on  the  wild  vine,  wrapping  itself  in  luxuriant  and 
immense  tangles  round  the  tall  trees  that  grow 
near  the  river  at  the  bottom  of  the  canyons.  Only 
there  can  it  find  the  refreshment  it  needs  in  that 
dry  country ;  and  though  its  sweetness  is  rather  acid, 
we  used  to  find  it  most  delicious  on  descending  into 
a  canyon,  parched  with  thirst  after  working  cattle 
on  the  heights  in  clouds  of  dust,  under  a  Mexican 
sun.  You  take  a  wrap  round  the  pommel  of  your 
saddle  with  a  main  stalk  of  the  vine  and  spur  your 
horse.  The  whole  vine,  torn  off,  unclasps  the  tree 
and  drops  itself  on  you  in  a  shower  of  leaves  and 
fruit.  It  made  even  a  ragged  cowpuncher  look 
decorative.  The  bear  revel  in  the  grapes,  and  help 
themselves  as  roughly  as  we  did.  I  wish  I  could 
have  seen  one  ;  it  would  have  been  a  perfect  picture 
of  vigour  and  abundance  of  power  and  enjoyment; 
the  very  subject  for  a  Rubens,  who  delights  in 
these  images,  and  who  loves  to  put  in  a  corner  a 
row  of  unwieldy,  shuffling  elephants,  loaded  with 
harness  of  silk  and  gold ;  on  the  elephants'  heads 
are  silver  baskets  overflowing  with  the  wealth  of 
orchards.  Imagine  a  "Garden  of  Eden"  with  a 
blooming  Dutch  Eve.  The  grizzlies  are  eating 
grapes  in  a  corner;  how  deep  and  rich  their  fur  is; 
what  an  expression  of  hoggish  greed  in  their  little 

N 


194  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

black  eyes ;  what  an  idea  of  enormous  and  clumsy 
strength  in  their  attitude ;  with  what  profusion  the 
torrent  of  leaves  flows  about  them.  But  the  grapes 
would  certainly  not  be  the  small  bitter-sweet  fruit 
we  used  to  scrape  off  the  stalk  with  our  teeth,  but 
they  would  be  golden  and  large,  bursting  their 
skins,  of  cloying  sweetness,  and  weighing  down  the 
stalk  in  large  clusters.  Another  and  most  grotesque 
food  is  insects,  minute  victims  for  such  monsters, 
and  it  is  a  disproportionate  fate  for  a  beetle  to  be 
pursued  and  devoured  by  an  animal  seven  times  as 
heavy  as  a  man.  But  the  acorn  and  the  grape  do 
not  come  till  the  autumn,  and  it  is  on  them  that  he 
gets  fat  and  grows  his  fine  winter  coat.  When  in 
the  spring  he  wakes  from  his  long  winter  sleep  and 
issues,  weak  and  thin,  from  his  hole  or  cave,  he 
pastures  off  certain  rich  flowery  grasses,  and  the 
insects  he  procures  by  turning  over  any  large 
stone,  licking  up  the  living  colonies  he  finds  under- 
neath ;  or  he  overtakes  them  by  tearing  off  the 
brittle  bark  of  pines.  Sometimes  he  is  systematic 
and  turns  over  all  the  rocks  on  a  slope.  It  is  as  if 
a  set  of  children  had  descended  from  nowhere  into 
these  solitudes,  and  amused  themselves  childishly 
by  undertaking  this  arduous  and  purposeless  task ; 
children  of  giants,  for  a  man  can  hardly  push  back 
into  its  place  some  of  the  rocks  a  grizzly  jerks  over. 
Like  all  those  who  labour  with  their  bodies,  he  eats 
at  all  times,  and  when  travelling  hard  on  those  long 
and  rapid  journeys  in  which  he  seems  to  spend  his 
life,  turns  over  a  big  stone  to  get  a  bite  as  he  roves 
along.  Of  all  bear  sign  the  upturned  stone  is  the 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  195 

most  visible,  and,  of  course,  the  one  that  catches 
the  notice  of  the  inexperienced  eye.  It  also  has  the 
peculiarity  of  informing  you  approximately  how 
long  ago  the  bear  went  by.  A  rock  keeps  the 
ground  it  lies  on  damp  ;  the  degree  in  which  the 
site  of  the  stone  has  dried  tells  you  roughly  how 
long  ago  it  was  turned  over. 

Hay  had  always  lived  that  frontier  life,  pursuing 
every  kind  of  business.  He  was  good-tempered, 
resourceful,  cool,  and  possessed  to  perfection  the 
knowledge  which  his  life  required.  He  knew  the 
weather,  the  country,  the  people,  the  animals,  the 
arts  of  camping,  cooking,  packing,  trailing,  and 
hunting.  He  was  —  no  mean  qualification  for  a 
sole  companion  in  the  wilds — the  most  famous  and 
entertaining  liar  in  the  country.  It  was  as  a 
cook  that  he  shone  most  brilliantly,  and  away 
from  civilisation  the  culinary  becomes  the  highest 
and  the  noblest  of  arts.  It  is  not  the  remini- 
scence of  feats,  however  prodigious,  that  rejoice 
the  memory,  but  that  of  the  rare  and  memorable 
good  dinners.  They  are  the  real  reward  of  heroes, 
and  that  is  why  Homer,  the  singer  of  heroism,  fills 
his  poem  with  eating  and  drinking.  Hay  could 
cook  anything  and  cook  it  anywhere.  He  could 
make  a  squirrel  into  a  palatable  comestible.  I 
have  seen  him  cook  a  meal  over  a  camp-fire,  and 
a  good  one,  with  the  rain  pouring  on  him.  The 
larder  of  a  camp  is  flour,  salt,  sugar,  molasses, 
and  grease  and  coffee  :  a  water-bucket,  a  boiling- 
pot,  a  frying-pan,  and  a  Dutch  oven,  a  round  iron 
bo*  where  fhe  bread,  raised  with  baking  powder  or 


196  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

in  a  barrel  of  leavened  dough,  "sour-dough,"  is 
baked  hot  for  every  meal  into  "biscuit,"  small 
rolls,  by  putting  hot  wood  ashes  below  it  and  on 
its  lid.  In  Hay's  camp  I  not  only  tasted  a  greater 
delicacy  than  in  cow  camp,  but  variety  both  of  meats 
and  their  preparation.  Beef  was  only  occasional, 
a  piece  of  meat  obtained  from  a  cow  outfit,  and 
the  venison  we  killed  our  regular  meat.  For 
seven  cartridges,  the  best  currency  in  the  wilder- 
ness, we  bought  a  lamb  from  a  wandering  Mexican 
shepherd,  and,  threading  two  long  sticks  through 
the  ribs,  held  them  over  a  glowing  pile  of  red 
embers  till  they  were  roasted.  We  lived  for  days 
off  trout,  which,  unlike  other  delicacies,  never 
palls.  They  swarm  in  the  head-waters  of  the 
streams,  and  Hay  varied  his  method  of  cooking 
them  as  ingeniously  as  a  chef.  We  killed  one  or 
two  wild  turkeys,  big,  clumsy  birds,  which  are 
hardly  worth  shooting  with  a  Winchester  rifle,  for 
they  are  shattered  if  you  hit  anywhere  but  in  the 
head,  and  besides  it  was  not  the  season  for  them. 
It  is  strange  to  hear  bands  of  them  gobbling  and 
clucking  like  a  farmyard  on  a  hillside.  Hay  made 
one  of  the  best  of  vegetables  by  boiling  water-cress 
and  the  tender  shoots  of  the  wild  mustard  together. 
One  of  his  recipes  is  worth  recording,  to  cook  the 
head  of  a  deer  or  any  other  animal.  Dig  a  hole  in 
the  ground.  Burn  a  lot  of  oak  sticks  over  it  till 
there  is  a  deep  layer  of  ashes  at  the  bottom.  Wrap 
the  head  in  wet  sacking,  wire  it,  and  bury  it  in  the 
ashes.  Pile  more  oak  sticks  over  the  hole  and  let 
them  burn  for  ten  or  twelve  hours  till  it  is  full  of 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  197 

ashes  to  the  brim.  Disinter  the  head,  now  baked, 
with  all  its  juices  kept  in  the  meat.  He  excelled 
at  the  famous  Western  stew  made  on  the  frequent 
occasions  when  a  beef  has  been  newly  butchered, 
its  hide  skinned  as  if  it  was  a  buffalo  robe,  and, 
disembowelled  of  its  voluminous  interior,  reduced 
to  four  heavy  quarters.  Tear  the  crackling  fat  from 
the  kidneys  and  slice  them.  Slice  the  crisp  heart 
and  the  liver,  which  is  flabby,  but  gives  the  strongest 
flavours  in  the  stew.  Add  lumps  of  meat,  and  any- 
thing else  like  rice  or  onions,  and  let  it  simmer  till 
you  come  back  to  camp  in  the  evening. 

I  never  became  a  cordon  bleu  of  camp  life  like 
Hay,  but  studying  in  such  a  school  I  made  some 
progress  in  cookery.  When  I  joined  him  my 
abilities  were  not  great ;  in  his  own  rather  unjust 
phrase,  "  I  would  have  burnt  a  pint  of  water  if  I 
had  tried  to  boil  it."  But  I  made  some  progress.  So 
my  American  travels  were  not  altogether  fruitless. 

Besides  having  been  a  round-up  cook,  Hay  had 
been  fireman  on  a  railway  engine,  a  miner,  a 
prospector  for  mines,  a  pedlar,  a  driver  of  a 
freight  waggon,  and  a  cowpuncher ;  he  had  in- 
vested his  savings  and  lost  them  in  a  herd  of  sheep. 
He  was  a  painter  by  trade,  and  now  pursued  the 
business  of  trapper.  He  was  not  a  very  good  shot, 
though,  like  all  Westerners,  extraordinarily  quick  ; 
of  course  he  was  better  than  I  am. 

Fortunately  being  a  good  shot  is  not  required 
when  hunting  bear.  This  indubitable  fact  was  a 
source  of  great  comfort  and  confidence  to  me ; 
hardly  less  so  than  the  other  no  less  indubitable 


198  A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

fact,  that  a  grizzly  cannot  climb  a  tree.  I  can. 
The  classical,  and  only  possible  way  of  killing  a 
big  bear  is  to  be  close  upon  him.  For  he  is  only 
vulnerable  in  the  brain,  throat,  and  neck.  At  a 
distance  you  cannot  make  certain  of  these  points, 
and,  in  fact,  are  likely  to  hit  him  elsewhere,  which 
will  provoke  him  to  charge,  and  will  not  disable 
him  at  all.  For  the  vitality  of  bears  is  marvellous, 
and  in  their  deep  armour  of  body  fat  masses  of 
lead  literally  embed  themselves.  We  used  Win- 
chester 30'4o's,  with  soft-nosed  bullets.  I  also 
carried  a  cowpuncher's  revolver. 

Hunters  who  have  "  still-hunted  "  bears — stalked 
them — speak  disparagingly  of  trapping.  Unjustifi- 
ably, I  think.  For  in  a  cattle  country,  wild  animals, 
overfed  and  glutted  by  the  abundance  of  meat,  are 
very  harmless  ;  wolves,  for  example,  are  ridiculously 
tame.  Besides,  bears  have  learnt  to  fear  man ;  a 
century  ago,  in  the  days  of  Lewis  and  Clark,  they 
took  the  offensive. 

Grizzly  is  not  the  right  way  to  spell  the  word, 
though  that  kind  of  bear  is  grizzled  and  is  often 
called  silver  tip ;  its  right  name,  as  it  was  called  in 
the  days  of  Lewis  and  Clark,  is  Grisly,  the  terrible. 
For  so  they  considered  the  monsters  to  be  who 
invaded  their  camp  and  attacked  them  unprovoked. 

But  now  they  will  always  run  if  they  can. 
To  come  upon  one  unharmed  and  untouched 
is,  therefore,  not  so  dangerous  as  it  seems,  but  it 
is  very  different  if  the  great  beast  has  been  tor- 
tured by  the  pain  of  a  trap  for  ten  hours.  He  is 
then  mad  with  rage,  and  charges,  or  tries  to  charge 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  199 

you,  at  sight.  In  any  case,  these  big  bear  ought 
not  to  be  killed  outright  at  all.  These  creatures 
of  immeasurable  and  invincible  might  are  reduced 
in  one  instant  to  a  tumbled  heap  of  fur  and  flesh. 
Men  should  be  allowed  to  enjoy  exhibitions  of 
their  strength  ;  they  should  preferably  be  caught 
and  exhibited,  before  enthusiastic  thousands,  in 
gladiatorial  combats,  though  I  doubt  whether  any 
adversary  could  be  found  to  match  a  grizzly; 
hardly  even  a  tiger  would  face  him  in  his  wrath. 
Such  shows,  with  appropriate  pomp  and  cere- 
mony, would  be  splendid.  They  would  not  be  more 
futile  than  a  cricket  match,  and  far  more  humane 
than  a  Grand  National. 

This  is  the  proper  place  to  tell  a  fearful  adven- 
ture which  well  illustrates  the  courage,  the  coolness, 
and  the  risks  of  those  that  trap  the  bear.  Hay  was 
trapping  in  the  James  Mountains,  and  had  with 
difficulty  overcome  the  bear  he  had  killed,  for 
there  they  still  preserved  that  intrepidity  which  they 
once  had  till  they  learnt  the  irresistible  superiority 
of  man.  One  night  he  decided  to  camp  in  the 
bottom  of  a  canyon  where  sign  was  thick  ;  evi- 
dently a  number  of  beasts  were  watering  there, 
though  it  was  a  sinister  spot.  A  clearing  had 
been  made,  and  a  small  hut  once  built  there  by 
a  settler.  He  had  been  killed  by  Apache  Indians, 
who  had  dragged  his  stove  out  of  the  hut,  lashed 
him  to  it,  and  roasted  him  to  death.  The  little 
log  cabin  was  now  in  ruins,  but  at  one  end  of 
it  was  a  bedstead  of  rough  wood  above  which  the 
roof  happened  to  be  unimpaired.  Hay  decided 


200  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

to  camp  inside  the  cabin,  and  put  his  bedding  on 
the  bedstead,  for  the  sky  was  louring  and  rainy. 
He  unpacked,  turned  his  mule  and  his  two  donkeys 
loose,  cooked  his  supper,  and  went  to  bed.  A 
low  and  narrow  hut  has  little  light,  and  it  shuts 
out  the  brightness  of  the  splendid  starry  nights. 
Now  the  tall  trees  round  the  hut  had  been  left 
standing  for  shade,  and  they  had  intertwined  their 
long  arms  and  formed  a  canopy  above  it,  so  that 
double  darkness  reigned  inside.  In  the  middle  of 
the  night  Hay  woke  up.  Something  was  moving 
about  the  hut.  He  heard  the  heavy  tread  of  some 
animal ;  but  it  was  invisible,  he  could  not  even  dis- 
tinguish its  shape.  It  moved  nearer,  and  was  just 
above  his  own  head ;  he  felt  its  hot  breath  on  his 
own  face.  Putting  his  hand  under  his  pillow,  he 
slowly  drew  out  his  revolver,  then  fired  right  into  the 
animal's  face — and  found  he  had  killed  one  of  his  own 
donkeys.  The  poor  little  beast  had  come  in,  sniffing 
round  to  find  something  good  to  eat,  a  bit  of  stale 
bread  or  a  greasy  piece  of  paper,  delicious  morsels. 
Our  life  had  its  routine — suppose  we  intended  to 
enter  a  new  piece  of  country  ;  to  move  camp  usually 
took  a  whole  day.  We  would  rise  at  our  earliest, 
on  the  very  point  of  dawn,  for  our  object  was 
to  finish  the  tedious  work  of  packing  before  the 
sun  had  grown  hot.  We  usually  divided,  Hay 
staying  in  camp  to  prepare  breakfast,  while  I 
started  out  to  fetch  the  mule  and  donkeys.  On 
my  success  the  success  of  the  whole  day  depended, 
for  if  I  brought  them  back  soon  our  hours  were 
pleasant.  We  packed  them  in  the  cool  of  the 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  201 

morning  :  we  reached  our  destination  in  the  middle 
of  the  afternoon  to  unpack  and  cook  our  supper 
before  the  light  had  begun  to  fade,  perhaps  with 
time  to  catch  a  few  trout.  But  the  donkeys 
were  not  always  stationary  during  the  night,  and 
it  would  sometimes  be  two  or  three  hours  before 
I  heard  the  tinkling  of  their  bells,  distant  in  the 
woods.  Then  we  would  have  to  pack  hurriedly 
under  the  full  blaze  of  the  morning  sun,  and  we 
would  not  reach  our  camping-place  till  sundown. 
To  arrange  your  camp  and  cook  in  the  groping 
darkness,  or  by  the  uncertain  light  of  a  camp-fire, 
is  vexatious  after  a  laborious  day.  The  best  way  to 
find  your  saddle  stock  is  to  start  out  to  find  them 
while  it  is  still  night,  and  we  sometimes  did  this. 
It  is,  of  course,  the  rule  in  cow  camps,  when  the 
work  must  begin  with  the  light.  The  "  horse- 
wrangler  "  rides  off  to  get  the  horses  before  the 
east  has  even  grown  pale,  and  begins  to  collect 
them  while  they  are  still  dark  moving  bodies,  with- 
out feature  or  colour ;  for  animals,  horses  even 
more  than  donkeys,  never  seem  to  travel  during 
the  actual  darkness,  but  they  stay  grazing  round 
the  place  they  were  put  in.  It  seems,  also,  that 
the  hour  before  dawn  is  the  short  hour  for  sleep 
among  horses,  those  sleepless,  restless  animals. 
At  the  first  sign  of  light  they  wake  and  move  off, 
sometimes  at  a  great  .rate.  If  you  are  there  just 
before,  you  can  find  them  all.  Riding  in  the  dark 
towards  a  hillside  of  rich  grass  where  the  horses 
were  put  the  night  before,  you  will  not  hear  a 
sound;  then  a  bell  will  tingle,  one  of  the  horses  is 


202  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

awake ;  then  another  and  another.  The  universal 
tinkling  tells  you  that  the  horses  are  all  depart- 
ing, though  the  hillside  is  still  black  and  they 
undiscernible. 

Suppose  the  donkeys  brought  back ;  then  you 
pack  them.  Packing  animals  is  an  art,  and  a  valu- 
able art  which  you  appreciate  when  you  have  tried 
to  drive  beasts  of  burden  badly  packed.  A  pack 
inclining  to  one  side  will  give  one  of  them  a  sore 
back  in  an  hour,  and  thus  disable  him  for  a  month. 
A  pack  turning  over  completely  precipitates  a  horse 
into  a  frenzy.  He  bursts  away  insane  with  fear, 
kicking,  bucking,  rolling  head  over  heels,  scattering 
the  load  everywhere.  Donkeys  do  the  same,  but 
more  deliberately,  for  fear  does  not  impel  those  fear- 
less little  creatures,  but  gleeful  malice,  that  here 
finds  its  opportunity.  You  with  difficulty  catch  your 
animal ;  you  painfully  collect  the  fragments  of  your 
pack,  finding  perhaps  that  your  flour-bag  had  been 
burst,  and  that  therefore  you  will  have  no  bread  for 
the  next  few  days.  You  carefully  re-pack  him.  By 
this  time  all  your  train  has  dispersed  in  the  woods, 
and  you  must  rush  about  to  find  them.  At  length 
you  set  out  again  ;  and  at  the  next  steep  descent 
another  pack  turns,  and  the  whole  of  this  perform- 
ance is  repeated.  Repetitions  throughout  the  day 
reduce  you  to  an  ecstasy  of  rage  and  despair,  and 
you  also  acquire  esteem  and  regard  for  the  man  who 
packs  well.  The  rudiments  of  the  art  are  not  diffi- 
cult to  learn,  and  allow  one  to  appreciate  the  fine 
points — the  exact  disposition  of  the  load,  the  even 
balance,  the  judicious  situation  of  the  large  and  heavy 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  203 

objects,  the  protection  of  the  small  and  fragile,  the 
compression  and  adjustment  of  so  many  different 
things  in  such  a  small  space,  the  many  artful  turns 
and  knots  of  the  rope  which  all  contribute  to 
clamp  a  pack  as  tightly  and  neatly  on  a  back  as 
if  it  were  riveted.  Four  of  our  donkeys  could 
carry  our  whole  household.  The  others  went  free, 
though  sometimes  one  of  them  would  have  one  or 
two  steel  traps  put  on  his  back — a  merely  formal  load. 

Our  direction  was  sometimes  governed  by  chance 
information  about  bear  and  bear  sign  that  might 
fall  to  us  from  cowpunchers,  always  inaccurate  and 
exaggerating,  or  from  Mexican  shepherds,  always 
instructive,  but  more  usually  we  moved  to  a  camp 
that  Hay  had  occupied  in  his  expeditions  four 
years  before.  The  day  we  moved  was  always  one 
of  high  and  confident  expectations.  It  was  always 
round  the  next  camp  that  numerous  and  helpless 
flocks  of  bear  were  waiting  to  be  slaughtered  ;  but 
they  always  remained  one  camp  in  front  of  us. 

Our  first  days  in  a  new  camp  were  always  spent 
searching  for  bear  sign  ;  then  each  of  us  would  go 
our  own  way  on  his  donkey  or  on  foot.  The 
habit  of  unremittingly  observing  the  ground  is 
soon  acquired  in  an  unsettled  country ;  for  the 
ground  registers  every  event,  and  there  is  no  con- 
stant perpetual  stream  of  events  to  efface  or  con- 
fuse the  sign  ;  they  are  few  and  remain  distinct  till 
the  rain  wipes  them  out,  and  to  those  who  can 
decipher  them  they  are  eloquent  and  instructive 
beyond  belief.  Some  of  the  indications  of  bear 
are,  of  course,  salient.  You  mark  how  dead  cattle 


204  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

have  been  killed  ;  the  trunks  of  trees  for  claw  mark, 
for  the  smaller  kind  climb  for  fun ;  where  the  trees 
have  been  stripped  of  bark ;  the  secret  springs 
where  the  portly  bear  roll  deliciously ;  and  up- 
turned stones,  the  commonest  and  easiest  sign.  An 
upturned  stone  or  the  track  of  a  shod  horse  is  too 
common  to  draw  the  eye  in  our  crowded  country  ; 
but  see  it  in  the  solitudes.  It  is  as  startling  as  the 
human  footprint  was  to  Robinson  Crusoe.  I  could 
only  understand  plain  and  direct  information  of 
this  kind ;  but  the  slightest  and  faintest  traces  were 
legible  to  Hay,  and  it  was  certainly  this  one  of  his 
abilities  that  impressed  me  most.  All  natives  of 
that  country  are  forced  to  practise  trailing,  and  I 
had  often  seen  displays  of  it  on  the  part  of  cow- 
punchers,  but  Hay  excelled.  His  eye  was  never 
off  the  ground  and  was  unerring.  In  a  single 
promenade  he  brought  back  all  the  news  of  the 
neighbourhood — the  presence  of  a  cow  outfit,  a 
passing  herd  of  sheep,  or  a  vagrant  bunch  of  wild 
mares ;  he  announced  the  nearness  of  any  game, 
deer,  wild  turkey,  or  wolves.  He  instantaneously 
detected  any  of  the  tragedies  of  animal  life  ;  he 
would  follow  a  track  which  he  declared  to  be  that 
of  a  colt  slain  and  dragged  down  into  the  canyon, 
till  we  came  upon  the  colt's  bones.  He  marked 
the  paths  and  watering-places  of  the  deer  to  be 
used  when  we  wanted  meat.  His  eye  had  a  micro- 
scopic power  ;  he  could  distinguish  an  old  bear- 
track  in  a  sandy  soil  trampled  by  hundreds  of 
cattle.  He  would  trail  a  wounded  deer  whose 
feet  hardly  touched  the  ground  as  she  bounded 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  205 

from  rock  to  rock,  at  a  glance,  too,  rapidly,  not 
by  prolonged  examinations  and  slow  steps. 

This  exceptional  power  was  due,  no  doubt,  to 
exceptional  opportunities,  for  he  had  been  a  sheep- 
man who  guards  his  close-packed  flocks  by  unin- 
termittently  perusing  the  ground  around  them  for 
the  steps  of  man  or  beast ;  and  he  had  lived  among 
Navajo  Indians,  who  can  trail  as  no  white  man 
can  ever  hope  to  do. 

I  heard  from  him  some  of  their  legends.  The 
Navajos  had  told  him  how  they  came  to  be  on 
this  earth,  for  they  were  not  always  on  this  upper 
world,  but  once  lived  in  another  country  far  below. 
It  was  as  level  as  a  plain,  the  sea  flowed  round  it, 
and  daily  its  tide  swept  over  the  smooth  sands. 
The  sun  moved  round  this  plain,  and  to  pay  the 
sun  for  his  journey  that  brought  the  warm  and 
cheerful  light,  a  Navajo  died  every  evening. 

One  day  a  certain  Navajo  went  walking  along 
the  shore.  He  was  an  ugly  man  with  heavy 
stooping  shoulders,  and  his  wife  who  went  with 
him  resembled  him.  The  two  found  the  whelp 
of  a  sea  monster,  a  fat,  small,  round  little  animal 
with  sleek  fur ;  he  had  crept  out  of  the  sea  on  his 
little  flippers  and  flat  tail  to  roll  in  the  warm  dry 
sand.  This  ugly  man  and  his  wife  stole  this  whelp 
and  hid  him  in  their  Navajo  blankets,  white,  with 
broad  red  stripes,  which  are  so  good  that  a  man  can 
pour  water  into  them  and  it  will  not  filter  through. 
The  sea  monster  was  queen  of  the  sea,  and  grow- 
ing anxious  for  her  baby,  searched  for  it  every- 
where ;  searched  the  troubled,  rolling  waters  and 


206  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

the  still,  dim  depths;  the  caves  under  the  cliffs 
where  the  roar  of  the  waters  is  never  silent  ;  the 
tangled  forests  of  seaweed.  The  distracted  creature 
could  not  find  her  baby,  so  she  rolled  out  of  the 
sea,  bellowing  and  braying,  to  look  for  it.  Two 
long  tusks  armed  her  heavy  face,  and  her  back  in 
the  waters  was  like  a  moving  island.  As  she  came 
out  over  the  land  a  wonder  happened ;  the  whole 
sea  in  obedient  order  followed  her,  wave  upon 
wave,  overflowing  the  land  of  the  Navajos.  They 
fled  before  the  advancing  flood,  but  still  the  beast 
came  on,  roaring  with  grief,  and  the  armies  of 
tumbling  waters  still  followed  her.  The  Navajos 
hurried  on,  glancing  back  on  the  white  and  angry 
crests,  till  they  were  all  gathered  together  on  a  big 
mountain  ;  their  numbers  were  so  thick  that  the 
sides  of  the  mountain  disappeared  under  the  press 
of  people,  and  the  danger  was  great,  for  already 
they  could  hear  the  waves  breaking  against  the 
cliffs  at  the  bottom  of  the  mountain.  So  their 
great  Medicine  Man  went  to  the  top  of  the  moun- 
tain, where  there  was  a  small  open  space  of  gravel 
and  rock.  In  the  gravel  he  planted  a  reed  that  he 
drew  from  under  his  blanket.  Round  this  reed  he 
drew  with  his  finger  a  circle  in  the  sand,  and  threw 
inside  burning  sticks  of  odorous  wood  from  which 
columns  of  smoke  slowly  curled.  Then  he  danced 
round  the  circle,  flapping  the  corners  of  the  blanket 
which  covered  his  shoulders,  over  the  smoke,  and 
singing  a  magic  song.  At  last  the  reed  began  to 
grow.  It  grew  fast,  and  was  soon  as  long  as  the 
stem  of  a  shrub ;  then  as  a  trunk  of  an  ancient 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  207 

oak ;  then  as  a  lofty  tower ;  and  finally  so  high  and 
broad  that  its  top  was  out  of  sight.  The  great 
Medicine  Man  made  the  whole  nation  enter  the 
reed,  himself  entering  last.  It  was  lime,  for  the 
water  was  wetting  his  feet  as  he  stepped  into  it. 
The  Navajos  journeyed  up  the  dark  interior  of  the 
reed  till  far  ahead  they  saw  a  little  glimmering  light. 
As  they  got  nearer,  they  saw  it  was  an  opening 
into  the  broad  day.  Outside  it,  they  found  them- 
selves standing  in  the  crater  of  Mount  Taylor ; 
they  scrambled  over  the  rocks  to  the  edge  of  the 
crater  and  saw  the  beauty  of  the  country.  There 
were  mountains  lifting  their  heads  to  a  blue  sky. 
In  the  woods,  herds  of  deer  were  cropping  the 
leaves.  The  canyons  waved  with  grasses  and  tall 
flowers  and  small  cool  streams  ran  everywhere,  so 
they  decided  to  make  it  their  home.  This  is  how 
the  Navajos  came. 

But  the  great  Medicine  Man,  who  came  out  of  the 
reed  as  he  had  gone  in,  last,  looked  back  and  saw 
the  sea  monster  flapping  up  the  reed,  growling,  in 
search  of  her  lost  baby,  with  all  the  sea  in  her  train. 
Then  he  ordered  the  Navajos  to  search  each 
other,  and  they  searched  until  they  found  the  whelp, 
warm  and  sleepy,  wrapt  up  in  the  blankets  of  the 
thief.  The  great  Medicine  Man  ran  with  it  to 
the  top  of  the  reed  and  threw  it  down  to  the  sea 
monster,  who  sniffed  at  it  to  see  whether  it  was  her 
own  before  she  lifted  it  in  her  teeth  and  went  back 
down  the  reed,  followed  by  all  the  racing  waves  of 
the  sea. 

The  Medicine   Man  took  the  hideous  grinning 


208  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

Navajo  with  the  heavy  stooping  shoulders,  and  his 
wife,  who  was  like  him  in  appearance,  and  drew  a 
circle  round  them  and  made  medicine  round  them, 
dancing  and  singing.  After  this  he  touched  them 
both  with  his  stick  on  the  shoulders.  They  fell  for- 
ward on  all  fours.  Shaggy  hair,  tipped  with  silver, 
stood  out  all  over  their  bodies,  and,  having  become 
grizzly  bears,  they  slouched  off  into  the  woods. 
This  is  how  the  Grizzly  bear  came. 

In  the  beginning  the  Navajos  lived  at  ease.  They 
neither  hunted  the  deer  nor  grew  corn  nor  tended 
flocks ;  but  their  food  fell  from  the  sky,  like  snow, 
in  soft  white  showers,  sweet  and  pleasant  to  taste. 
The  Navajos  had  no  work  but  to  weave  and!wash  their 
striped  blankets,  and  talk  and  dance  fire  dances.  It 
happened  that  there  was  a  certain  Navajo  who  was 
the  laziest  of  all  the  people.  He  was  small,  with  a 
pointed  face  and  little  cunning  eyes.  This  Navajo 
and  his  wife  were  so  lazy  that  they  would  not  take 
the  trouble  to  clean  their  blankets  by  letting  them 
float  in  the  running  stream,  but  were  content  to 
have  them  black  and  greasy.  One  evening  as  they 
sat  over  the  fire  his  wife  reproached  him,  how  dirty 
their  blankets  were.  He  was  too  indolent  to  take 
them  down  to  the  stream  they  could  hear  falling 
over  the  stones,  but  threw  a  pile  of  the  crisp,  white 
food  into  a  jar  and  warmed  it  till  it  had  melted  into 
the  water  he  required.  With  this  precious  liquid 
he  scrubbed  his  blankets.  After  that  no  more  food 
ever  fell  from  the  sky. 

The  Navajos  were  very  angry,  for  they  had  to 
toil  and  sweat,  ploughing  and  sowing  and  gathering 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  209 

corn,  and  watching  flocks,  and  they  had  to  spend 
long  hours  in  the  hot  sun  slowly  creeping  up  on 
the  deer  to  kill  them  for  food.  Their  lives  were 
changed  from  ease  to  labour.  After  a  long  time 
the  great  Medicine  Man  found  out  the  cause.  He 
took  the  small  Navajo  with  the  pointed  face  and 
cunning  little  eyes  and  his  wife ;  he  drew  a  circle 
round  them,  and  made  medicine  round  them,  danc- 
ing and  singing.  After  this  he  touched  them  both 
with  his  stick  on  the  shoulders.  They  fell  forward 
on  all  fours.  Fur,  silvery  white,  stood  out  all  over 
their  bodies,  and,  having  become  wolves,  they 
trotted  off  into  the  woods.  This  is  how  the  wolves 
came. 

In  these  days  the  country  was  troubled  by 
a  huge  eagle,  so  huge  that  it  turned  the  light  of 
deep  canyons  into  twilight  with  the  spread  of  its 
wings  when  it  passed  over,  and  its  shadow  on  the 
sunny  hills  as  it  flew  was  like  that  of  an  autumn 
cloud.  Its  eyrie  was  in  the  high,  sheer  cliffs,  to 
which  it  carried  off  many  Navajos  in  its  talons, 
for  it  fed  on  the  flesh  of  human  beings.  They 
were  powerless  against  it  till  a  Navajo  was  born 
one  morning,  who  by  the  night  of  the  same  day 
had  grown  into  a  man.  This  man  had  power  over 
the  sun  and  the  stars ;  the  clouds,  the  lightning, 
and  the  thunder  obeyed  him.  One  night  he 
gathered  all  the  black  clouds  of  the  sky  together 
in  one  flock  and  bade  them  storm.  The  rain  lashed 
the  earth,  the  thunder  rolled  its  wheels,  the  light- 
ning flashed  its  dazzling  glare.  He  also  bade  the 
sun  halt,  so  that  there  was  no  morning  and  no  day. 

Q 


210  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

The  eagle  waited  for  day  till  it  grew  hungry,  and  then 
sailed  out  of  its  eyrie  in  the  high  sheer  cliffs,  scream- 
ing for  prey.  As  it  did  so  the  Navajo  drew  down  the 
lightning  from  heaven  upon  it,  and  the  eagle  was 
struck  dead ;  by  the  light  of  the  flash  the  Navajos 
could  see  its  wings  flutter  and  drop,  and  the  black 
mass  of  the  gigantic  bird  fall  to  the  ground.  Then 
the  Navajo  ordered  the  sun  to  rise ;  the  clouds 
scattered  and  the  storm  ceased. 

All  the  Navajos  came  together  to  look  on  their 
dead  enemy,  thronging  round  the  body.  Some 
wondered  at  the  talons,  some  at  the  beak.  Others 
argued  long  and  loudly  as  to  its  weight  and  size. 
The  women's  curiosity  was  to  see  the  Navajo  who 
had  drawn  down  the  lightning ;  the  little  children 
dared  each  other  to  touch  the  bird,  and  those  who 
were  brave  enough  to  do  so  were  shaken  and 
scolded  by  their  mothers.  The  feathers  of  this 
great  bird  were  glossy  and  handsome,  and  as  soon 
as  they  could  overcome  their  fear  the  women 
picked  them  and  filled  sacks  with  them,  for  a 
feather  is  an  ornament  to  a  Navajo.  When  their 
sacks  were  filled,  they  all  started  out  on  their  way 
back,  bowed  down  under  their  weight.  What 
amount  of  attention  they  could  spare  from  mutual 
conversation  was  devoted  to  balancing  these  on 
their  backs,  so  that  they  did  not  notice  some  mis- 
chievous children  slitting  holes  in  the  sacks  with 
sharp  stones.  The  feathers  fell  out,  lightening  the 
load  and  giving  them  more  breath  to  talk.  But 
here  a  wonder  happened.  For  as  each  feather 
fluttered  out  it  turned  to  a  bird,  each  of  a  different 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  211 

plumage,  and  flew  off  into  the  trees.     This  is  the 
way  the  multitudinous  race  of  birds  came. 

We  never  saw  any  Indians,  but  some  must  have 
seen  us.  One  afternoon  we  struck  a  trail  of  our 
own  at  the  sandy  bottom  of  a  canyon,  and  noticed 
that  some  one  had  been  following  us  towards 
our  camp.  The  feet  were  set  one  in  front  of  the 
other,  as  no  white  man  places  them,  and  wore 
moccasins.  Hay  was  very  much  annoyed  and 
tried  to  follow  this  new  trail  himself;  he  might  as 
well  have  tried  to  trail  a  bird  in  the  air.  Two  or 
three  days  afterwards  towards  evening  Hay  was 
sleeping  under  a  tree  in  camp,  and  I  lay  against  my 
saddle  reading,  when,  looking  up,  I  saw  a  large 
patch  of  dry  ferns  about  ten  yards  from  our  camp 
alight  and  blazing.  I  called  to  Hay  and  he  im- 
mediately seized  a  sack  and  ran  down  to  the  creek, 
carrying  his  Winchester  in  his  left  hand,  shouting 
to  me  to  do  the  same.  With  these  wet  sacks  we 
beat  on  the  edge  of  the  fire,  which  had  fortunately 
not  yet  grown  to  large  dimensions ;  once  extin- 
guished in  this  fashion  round  the  edges,  and 
incapable  of  spreading,  we  went  on  wetting  our 
sacks  and  beating  the  patch  down  for  an  hour,  till 
every  spark  was  quenched,  unpleasant  work,  the 
acrid  smoke  choking  our  throats  and  stinging  our 
eyes.  Nothing  but  human  agency  could  have 
started  this  conflagration.  A  smouldering  spark 
blown  from  the  dead  ashes  of  our  camp-fire  could 
not  have  been  the  cause,  for  the  wind  was  from  the 
patch  of  fern  to  our  camp  and  not  from  our  camp 
to  the  patch.  We  afterwards  heard  Apache  Indians 


212  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

had  been  on  a  most  successful  hunting  and  horse- 
stealing  tour,  as  a  gold  prospector  we  met  told 
us  ;  one  morning  he  had  found  his  saddle  stock 
vanished  and  their  hobbles  hanging  on  a  bush.  Our 
donkeys  were  not  worth  stealing.  Their  motive  in 
starting  this  fire  close  to  us — if  they  did — is  not 
clear.  Probably  our  presence  interfered  with  their 
hunting  :  our  traps  also  had  the  appearance  of 
having  been  meddled  with,  which  could  be 
accounted  for  on  the  same  grounds.  Hay  always 
made  it  a  rule  never  to  leave  his  Winchester  out  of 
reach,  even  carrying  it  with  him  if  he  went  fifty 
yards  to  get  a  can  of  water.  This  caution  seemed 
to  me  extreme,  but  in  obedience  to  his  repeated 
injunctions  I  had  also  adopted  the  habit.  Unless 
Apaches  are  regularly  on  the  warpath,  which  they 
would  not  presume  to  be  at  the  present  day,  it 
appears  they  would  not  dare  to  attack  an  armed 
man  even  if  armed  themselves.  For  like  all  inferior 
races,  their  inferiority  shows  itself  most  in  their  not 
being  rich  enough  to  buy  cartridges  and  practise. 
They  always  remain  most  inaccurate  shots,  and 
they  cannot  know  whether  the  white  is  not  some 
miraculous,  lightning  frontier  marksman.  The 
only  danger,  Hay  declared,  lay  in  their  dashing  in 
and  making  off  with  a  rifle  of  a  careless  man.  If 
he  were  alone  and  thus  disarmed,  they  might  be 
tempted  to  murder  him  for  his  outfit.  After  this 
alarm,  he  hugged  his  Winchester  ten  times  closer. 
Those  two  Apaches  may  have  watched  each  of 
us,  themselves  unseen  and  unheard.  A  woodland 
comedy.  The  two  trembling  Apaches  behind  trees, 


A    THREE-FOOT   STOOL  213 

watching  me,  rifled,  revolvered,  and  armed  with  a 
still  more  formidable  beard,  speculating  upon  me 
as  some  deadly  and  ruthless  frontiersman,  thirsting 
for  blood  and  gold :  the  probable  train  of  my 
reflections  at  that  time  being,  how  hot  and  heavy  it 
was  lugging  this  armoury  about  with  me,  and 
whether  the  few  cans  of  jam  we  had  would  last 
another  two  weeks.  The  imposition  practised  upon 
those  guileless  savages  seems  almost  cruel. 

Four  years  before,  in  the  same  country,  Hay  had 
noticed  that  his  traps  had  been  disturbed,  and  laid 
in  ambush  near  one  of  them,  behind  a  large  log. 
On  the  third  occasion,  after  watching  some  hours, 
he  saw  a  hideous  redskin,  bearing  a  bow  and  arrows, 
naked  but  for  a  red  loin-cloth,  and  with  flowing 
hair,  come  gliding  noiselessly  down  the  canyon. 
When  he  reached  the  log  Hay  rose,  covered  him 
with  his  Winchester,  and  told  him  to  throw  up  his 
hands.  This  he  did  in  the  orthodox  style,  dropping 
his  bow  and  arrows,  and  opening  his  ringers  wide  ; 
he  then  addressed  Hay  in  English  far  superior  to 
any  Hay  could  command.  He  had  received  an 
excellent  education  at  a  school  on  the  Reservation. 
After  a  short  conversation  they  parted,  and  Hay 
came  home,  if  not  with  a  scalp,  at  least  with  an 
anecdote. 

My  expeditions  in  search  of  bear  sign  were  not 
very  fruitful,  but  they  were  the  most  delightful 
days  I  spent  in  the  Rocky  Mountains.  I  had 
always  had  around  me  that  resplendent  sky  and 
sweet  variety  of  scenery,  but  this  was  the  first  time 
I  had  leisure  to  enjoy  it.  Before,  work  or  some 


2i4  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

anxiety  had  always  distracted  me  ;  now  I  could 
saunter,  enjoy,  and  reflect.  We  were  very  near  the 
summit  of  the  Rockies,  on  the  very  backbone  of  the 
continent.  The  plains,  dry,  sandy,  almost  African, 
were  now  far  behind  us.  So  was  the  region  where 
the  profound  canyons  broaden  to  make  way  for 
large  rivers,  shrunk  at  this  season  to  trickling 
streams,  or  where  the  level  mesas  (tablelands)  of 
grass  were  withering  under  the  heat.  We  were  on 
the  very  summits.  The  heads  of  the  rivers  ran  in 
little  streams  through  amiable  valleys,  not  yet  sunk 
into  deep  and  sombre  canyons  between  towering 
clifts  of  rock,  and  the  cool  shade  of  willows  fringed 
their  waters.  Over  their  level  spaces  grew  tall, 
thick  grasses,  sown  with  a  profusion  of  flowers. 
These  banks  of  flowers,  mostly  of  a  golden  colour, 
made,  with  the  rich  green  of  the  grasses,  an  efful- 
gent livery.  All  round  rose  peaks  covered  by 
ascending  regiments  of  pines,  a  dark,  serried,  silent 
army  that  sealed  them  to  the  very  top,  to  the  pure 
and  serene  blue  of  that  lovely  sky.  Unfortunately 
that  untrodden  country  has  no  high  associations, 
no  legends,  and  rouses  no  visions.  It  has  no  past 
but  cattle-thieves  shot,  abominable  cruelties  com- 
mitted by  Apache  Indians,  but  its  scenes  are  of 
perfect  and  exquisite  beauty. 

I  had  always  wished  to  be  idle,  with  an  unoccu- 
pied mind,  in  these  woods,  and  this  was  my  first 
opportunity ;  so  I  would  spend  the  whole  day 
alone,  or  with  one  of  my  companionable  donkeys 
and  a  small  book.  He  would  carry  me  over  the 
deep  carpets  of  pine  needles,  through  the  endless 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  215 

ranks  of  the  pines  to  the  sudden  edge  of  deep 
canyons  whose  sides  are  titanic  walls  of  red  stone. 
I  would  look  over  and  watch  the  river,  diminished 
by  distance  to  a  thin,  clear  ribbon,  flowing  at  the 
bottom  of  this  gulf ;  or  I  would  climb  on  foot  to 
some  untrodden,  culminating  height  and  enjoy  the 
sight  of  all  the  mountains  spread  before  me  to  the 
limit  of  sight,  range  past  range,  peak  past  peak, 
with  the  infinite  dark  sea  of  pines  rolling  over 
them.  All  these  expeditions  were  explorations  to 
me,  and  each  day  brought  new  views. 

My  researches  were  not  exhaustive,  though  I 
always  concealed  from  Hay  how  superficial  they 
were.  On  meeting  him  in  camp  in  the  evening  I 
used  to  find  him,  according  to  the  amount  of  sign 
he  had  discovered,  elate,  breathing  slaughter  to  the 
bear,  or  utterly  dejected,  pondering  whether  he 
should  not  abandon  his  present,  and  return  to  one 
of  his  former  occupations,  especially  that  of  camp 
cook,  in  which  he  had  won  many  triumphs  and 
risen  to  be  the  head  of  his  profession.  Supper 
usually  restored  his  philosophy  to  him.  Afterwards 
I  would  roll  on  the  bearskin  in  front  of  a  high 
cheerful  fire,  while  he  sat  on  his  heels,  pulling  at 
an  old  pipe  and  drawing  equally  on  his  imagina- 
tion and  his  experience  for  stories  of  sudden 
fortune,  lucky  finds,  or  hidden  treasures ;  or  he 
would  elaborate  vast  and  detailed  schemes  by 
which  we,  in  conjunction,  were  to  win  the  riches 
he  was  always  dreaming  of,  such  as  inventing  a  new 
hair  restorer,  that  would  raise  our  fame  to  the  stars 
and  our  wealth  beyond  the  hope  of  avarice. 


216  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

At  various  periods  of  his  life  Hay  had  suffered 
from  the  fever  of  the  goldseeker  and  was  always 
liable  to  recurring  fits  of  it.  He  never  indeed 
had  reached  a  complete  cure.  At  likely  places 
he  would  examine  the  formation  of  the  rocks  and 
look  very  wise  over  stray  pieces  of  quartz ;  and 
whenever  we  camped  by  some  new  stream,  he 
would  wash  for  gold,  fill  our  frying-pan  with  sand 
from  its  bed  and  slowly  shake  it  empty  to  allow 
the  heavier  metal  to  deposit  itself  in  the  sediment. 
We  did  not  have  the  good  fortune  we  deserved, 
and  the  mountains  kept  their  treasures  hidden  from 
us.  His  expectations  were  perhaps  not  so  fantastic 
as  they  seem,  and  it  was  a  matter  of  certainty  that 
gold  must  exist  somewhere  in  the  locality,  some- 
where in  the  head-waters  of  these  streams.  For 
single  and  stray  pieces  had  at  different  times  been 
found  lower  down  in  their  course ;  a  man  dipping 
his  face  in  the  water  had  had  his  eye  caught  by  a 
glittering  stone,  and  on  assay  it  had  proved  itself 
to  be  half  gold  ;  a  cowpuncher  cleaning  out  the 
hoofs  of  his  horse  to  shoe  him  had  found  a  pure 
piece.  These  tantalising  facts  stirred  the  imagina- 
tion, and  this  secret,  so  in  harmony  with  these 
silent  and  unknown  peaks,  invited  the  formation 
of  legends.  Even  the  prosaic  Hay  dallied  with 
pictures  of  hidden  hoards,  sacred  Apache  treasure- 
houses,  still  guarded  by  their  emissaries,  when  he 
talked  of  them ;  and  at  times  I  myself  yielded  to 
the  amiable  idea  that  one  morning  I  should  stumble 
on  a  fortune.  In  a  poor  man  like  Hay,  who  has 
to  work  all  his  life  for  wages,  such  illusions  are 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  217 

more  than  justifiable.  A  miracle  or  something 
approaching  to  it  is  required  to  raise  him  to  the 
affluence  into  which  only  a  small  class  in  our 
society  are  born.  The  finding  of  a  gold-mine  is 
such  a  miracle,  but  no  other  road  to  real  wealth 
is  more  likely  to  be  open  to  him,  and,  if  he  is  to 
hope  at  all,  there  is  no  reason  he  should  not  flatter 
himself  with  this  prospect  as  much  as  with  any 
other.  Accident  would  at  times  make  his  sunken 
hopes  rise  to  the  surface.  One  evening,  as  it  was 
getting  dark,  we  saw  a  stranger  coming  through 
the  woods  towards  us,  rather  ragged,  with  a  rifle 
in  his  hand.  We  had  seen  no  other  human  being 
but  ourselves  for  three  weeks,  and  his  sudden 
appearance,  on  foot  too,  was  as  strange  as  an 
apparition.  I  was  by  then  too  well  acquainted 
with  the  custom  of  the  country  to  display  surprise 
or  cordiality  at  his  approach,  which  would  be 
counted  loss  of  dignity,  and  continued,  without 
even  looking  up,  at  my  occupation  of  splitting  a 
log.  Hay,  who  sat  on  his  heels  in  front  of  the  fire 
cooking  some  meat  in  a  frying-pan,  maintained  an 
equal  unconcern,  only  stretching  out  his  left  hand 
and  drawing  his  Winchester  closer  to  him.  The 
arrival  proved  to  be  a  gold  prospector,  searching 
on  foot  for  his  horse,  who,  though  hobbled,  had 
gone  off  the  night  before.  With  that  free  hos- 
pitality which  is  as  much  the  rule  as  churlishness 
of  manner,  he  was  asked  to  spend  the  night  in 
our  camp,  and  after  supper  our  talk  naturally 
turned  to  his  business.  Far  into  the  night  the 
two  sat  on  their  heels  in  front  of  the  glowing  logs, 


218  A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

drawing  at  their  pipes,  to  exchange  reminiscences 
and  anticipations,  and  anecdotes  and  information, 
all  on  fire  with  the  throbbing  subject.  Tales  of 
lost  mines  mostly.  Ancient  mines,  worked  by 
Spanish  conquerors  generations  before,  now  lost 
amid  abysmal  canyons  and  inaccessible  summits; 
old  workings,  with  skeletons  and  rawhide  buckets 
lying  around,  seen  once  by  lost  and  forlorn  tra- 
vellers and  never  rediscovered,  still  guarded,  in 
Old  Mexico,  with  ceaseless  vigilance  by  cruel 
Yaqui  Indians,  conscious  that  their  discovery 
would  be  followed  by  the  inevitable  inrush  of 
whites ;  veins  of  turquoise  shown  in  the  rocks  by 
friendly  Indian  chiefs  to  some  visitor  in  lonely 
spots;  specimens  of  quartz  picked  up  by  geolo- 
gists or  travellers,  and  which  had  assayed  at  fabu- 
lous amount  of  gold  to  the  ton ;  ingots  of  gold 
and  silver  buried  by  Apache  chiefs  in  their  flight 
after  their  defeat  by  American  troops  ;  prospectors 
who  had  returned  to  civilisation  with  rich  speci- 
mens and  been  killed  leading  a  large  expedition 
back  to  the  site  of  their  discoveries  ;  grotesque 
finds,  drunkards  spilling  their  water-bottles  on  the 
sand  and  seeing  with  astonished  eyes  it  was  rich 
with  the  golden  grain — all  the  stories  which  crys- 
tallise round  the  exploitation  of  all  great  metal 
centres  in  the  Rockies.  Detailed,  circumstantial, 
vivid  accounts  which  they  accepted  as  guiding 
facts,  all  the  glittering  will  o'  th'  wisps  that  drew 
these  men  to  spend  the  years  of  their  lives  in 
laborious  and  dangerous  exploration.  Words,  even 
figures,  failed  Hay  to  describe  the  lordly  grandeur  of 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  219 

the  lucky  prospector,  who,  "  grubstaked,"  equipped 
by  some  capitalist,  had  at  last  struck  it  rich. 

"  And  on  one  side,"  he  exclaimed,  "there  was  a 
hill  of  silver  and  on  the  other  a  hill  of  copper,  and 
he  got  a  million  dollars  a  month  from  them,  and  he 
has  given  each  of  his  eight  children  a  pianner,  and 
none  of  them  knows  how  to  play  a  note,"  breathless 
with  admiration  at  his  ostentatious  luxury. 

One  story  was  rather  tragic.  One  of  the  greatest 
of  gold-mines  is  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  the 
Santa  Fe*  trail,  along  which  thousands  of  people 
perished  by  hardship  or  through  Indian  attacks  in 
the  wild  rush  across  continent  to  the  Californian 
goldfields  before  the  railroads  were  constructed. 
These  unhappy  creatures  must  have  passed  by  the 
very  object  of  their  desire  in  their  eager  journey  to 
their  distant  goal.  Three  years  before  this  prospector 
himself  had  been  engaged  in  a  curious  adventure 
which  he  related  to  us,  where  he  had  had  the  prize 
almost  within  his  grasp  and  it  had  vanished. 

A  certain  Captain  Cooney,  a  large  owner  of 
silver  and  copper  mines  in  the  mountains,  had 
been  elected  to  the  legislature  of  New  Mexico 
and  had  gone  up  to  Santa  F6*  for  its  sittings. 
There  the  printer  to  the  Assembly  came  to  him  and 
showed  him  a  letter  which  he  had  received  from  his 
brother  twenty  years  before.  The  letter  was  posted 
from  the  very  mining  town  called  after  Cooney, 
where  his  properties  lay ;  in  it  the  brother,  who 
was  a  prospector,  told  the  printer  that  he  had  found 
a  mine  of  inconceivable  richness,  and  asked  him 
to  sell  his  business  and  come  out  and  join  him,  for 


220  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

he  required  an  assistant  and  would  trust  no  one. 
He  gave  him  elaborate  and  clear  indications  to 
enable  him  to  reach  his  camp,  which,  he  said,  lay 
only  three  miles  from  this  mine.  Between  the  two 
he  had  blazed  a  trail,  that  is,  marked  the  trees  with 
an  axe  at  regular  intervals.  In  full  confidence  the 
printer  had  disposed  of  his  business  and  come  out 
to  the  West.  When  he  reached  the  town  from 
which  he  was  to  start  into  the  mountains  to  join 
his  brother,  he  found  an  Apache  war  had  broken 
out.  His  brother  he  never  saw  again,  for  he  could 
hardly  have  escaped  the  Indians ;  and  the  circum- 
stances had  discouraged  him  from  making  the  at- 
tempt alone.  Cooney  instantly  resolved  to  utilise 
this  valuable  information.  This  prospector  who 
had  fallen  in  with  us  was  highly  experienced  and  a 
friend  of  Cooney,  and  so  he,  on  request,  joined 
the  expedition  with  the  printer.  The  three  men 
had  started  out  with  a  small  pack  train,  following 
the  instructions  of  the  letter  written  twenty  years 
before,  which  had  led  them  into  barren  withered 
regions,  riven  with  yawning  canyons,  which  would 
take  a  day  to  cross.  At  last,  after  an  advance  of 
many  days,  during  which  they  underwent  severe 
suffering  from  want  of  water,  they  reached  the 
place,  amid  oak  thickets  and  junipers,  just  as  the 
letter  described  it.  Their  hearts  stood  still  when 
they  looked  on  the  relics  of  the  brother's  camp, 
preserved  during  all  that  time  in  the  warm  dry 
air ;  the  bones  of  the  unfortunate  brother  lay  in 
front  of  them ;  so  did  those  of  his  donkeys,  who 
had  perished  with  him ;  the  rawhide  panniers, 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  221 

shrivelled  and  burnt  by  the  rain  and  the  sun ; 
the  cartridges,  hardly  rusted,  which  he  had  used 
in  his  last  defence.  On  the  ground  also  were 
scattered  fragments  of  quartz,  different  from  the 
actual  soil  of  the  site,  fragments  rich  in  gold,  as 
their  practised  eyes  immediately  told  them,  and 
which  subsequently  assayed  at  thousands  of  dollars 
to  the  ton.  As  a  climax,  they  found  without  diffi- 
culty the  blazed  trail,  old  but  still  distinguishable. 
None  of  them  slept  that  night,  distracted  with  con- 
flicting emotions  of  sadness  and  greed.  But  their 
investigations,  carried  out  in  the  same  state  of  ex- 
citement, were  fruitless  :  neither  at  the  end  of  the 
trail  nor  in  any  spot  of  the  neighbourhood  could 
they  find  any  workings,  holes,  or  mounds  of  earth, 
or  even  quartz  similar  to  the  specimens  they  had 
found  in  camp :  and  after  searching  for  days,  they 
had  resigned  themselves  and  given  up  their  quest. 
The  prospector  offered  us  his  explanation  of  their 
failure.  It  was,  he  said,  a  ruse  of  the  Indians,  bent, 
as  always,  on  hiding  the  existence  of  gold  in  their 
land,  knowing  that  the  most  sacred  obligations, 
the  most  solemn  promises,  the  most  formal  treaties 
could  not  keep  the  white  man  out  of  their 
country  if  it  was  discovered.  They,  he  alleged, 
had  thoroughly  effaced  the  traces  of  the  work- 
ings, and  of  the  original  blazed  trail  which  led  to 
them  from  the  camp  :  and  had  even  taken  the 
trouble  to  blaze  another  false  trail  on  the  trees 
to  mislead  any  people  who  had  any  information 
of  the  discovery  :  he  even  thought  they  might 
have  shifted  the  bones  and  relics  of  the  discoverer 


222  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

from  his  right  and  original  camp  to  where  they 
had  been  found,  to  make  doubly  sure  of  the 
secret.  One  small  fact  supported  the  hypothesis 
of  a  deliberate  deception.  Cooney,  with  the 
quick  and  intensely  observant  eye  of  his  kind, 
noticed  the  trunk  of  a  small  tree  bore  very  old 
marks  of  having  been  burnt.  Scraping  away  the 
earth  at  its  base,  he  found  the  ashes  of  a  small  fire 
that  had  once  been  lit  there.  Some  one  had  exerted 
himself  to  conceal  this  mark  of  a  human  visitor. 

If  bear  sign  was  old  or  scarce,  we  moved  on 
to  another  camp,  and  if  it  was  fresh  and  promis- 
ing, we  set  our  traps  out.  They  weigh  seventeen 
or  forty-two  pounds,  and  consist  of  two  large  steel 
jaws  which,  by  a  simple  and  common  mechanism, 
are  released  and  closed  when  a  pan  in  the  middle 
of  the  trap  is  trodden  on.  To  the  trap  you  attach 
a  log  weighing  sixty  or  seventy  pounds,  which  does 
not  of  course  retain  a  grizzly,  but  it  is  an  impedi- 
ment. He  rushes  off  across  country  hauling  it. 
This  drag  of  log  and  trap  catches  in  every  bush  ; 
he  halts  at  intervals  to  gnash  his  teeth  on  them  ; 
best  of  all,  they  leave  a  deep,  broad  track,  and  you 
can  follow  him  easily.  On  other  occasions  he 
stays  on  the  same  spot,  raging.  The  placing  of 
our  traps  was  sometimes  settled  by  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances, but,  as  a  rule,  we  set  them  out  at 
distances  of  a  mile  or  so  along  a  ridge  or  on  the 
edge  of  deep  thickets.  From  a  ridge  the  scent  of 
the  bait  is  carried  in  two  directions,  and  far ; 
besides,  a  long  ridge  is  a  favourite  road  along 
which  bear  travel.  Thickets  are  a  constant  inci- 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  223 

dent  of  the  woodlands,  where  firs  and  impenetrable 
groves  of  quaking  aspen  grow  close  together,  cen- 
turies of  fallen  timber  obstruct  the  ground,  and  a 
thick  brush  knits  the  whole  into  an  impervious 
jungle.  They  are  the  favourite  residence  of  the 
bear,  for  men  do  not  enter  them.  They  are  cool 
too,  and  bear,  who  cannot  discard  their  rich  fur 
coats,  must  suffer  acutely  from  the  heat  of  a 
Mexican  summer.  They  certainly  stay  in  the 
thickets  all  day,  and  only  come  out  of  them  at 
night.  I  can  imagine  the  great  beasts  lolling  and 
panting  in  the  deep  shade  at  noon. 

A  bait  for  your  trap  is  supplied  by  deer,  so  that 
this  hunting  of  deer  is  almost  constant.  We  de- 
pended upon  them  also  for  meat.  Half  a  deer  was 
the  bait  we  hung  up  in  our  traps.  Killing  deer 
has  been  praised  as  a  noble  sport ;  but  I  found 
it  dull  enough.  Perhaps  it  was  satiety ;  perhaps 
I  have  never  had  that  love  of  the  rifle  which 
possesses  those  who  are  skilful  with  it,  as  much 
as  the  love  of  their  swords  possesses  the  heroes  of 
romance ;  perhaps  the  deer  were  too  easy  victims. 
Hunters  by  no  means  given  to  bravado,  and  some- 
what sceptical  about  sporting  exploits,  write  with 
more  complacency  about  their  destruction  of  black- 
tail  and  white-tail  deer  than  of  any  other  animal. 
But  it  is  difficult  to  understand,  as  it  does  not  seem 
to  demand  high  qualities  or  present  great  diffi- 
culties. But  perhaps  this  case  is  not  usual,  and 
peculiar  to  this  country,  owing  to  the  deer  being 
familiar  with  men,  and  yet  unmolested  and  secure. 
Cowpunchers  are  always  riding  about  among  them, 


224  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

who  hardly  turn  their  heads  to  look  at  them,  for 
they  dislike  venison  and  disdain  sport ;  in  fact,  in 
one  range  where  the  cattle  were  very  wild  I  believe 
they  were  easier  to  approach  than  the  cattle  them- 
selves. On  one  occasion  a  cowpuncher  and  I 
were  driving  a  few  cattle  up  a  small  narrow  canyon. 
Two  does  came  down  it  towards  us,  and  almost 
walked  into  the  lead  of  the  cattle,  perhaps  dazed  by 
the  light  and  not  distinguishing  us  on  horseback 
from  the  cattle.  They  were  coming  so  near  that  I 
saw  the  cowpuncher  silently  getting  his  rope  ready 
to  rope  at  them.  These  casual  meetings  and  views 
of  deer  are  reminiscences  far  more  pleasant  than 
those  of  hunting  them,  and  possibly  the  worst  way 
of  seeing  deer  is  to  stare  at  them  along  the  sights 
of  a  rifle;  but  a  large  buck  surprised  at  a  forest 
pool,  where  he  has  come  to  drink  at  the  hot  mid- 
day, and  lifting  his  black  muzzle,  still  dripping  with 
water,  to  look  at  you,  is  a  picture  very  pleasing  to 
the  eye. 

We  left  the  carcase,  or  more  usually  half  of  it, 
at  the  place  where  we  intended  to  set  the  trap, 
and  on  the  next  day  we  brought  the  big  steel 
traps  themselves.  The  most  curious  requisite  of 
Hay's  was  perfumery,  of  the  most  powerful  kind. 
He  used  it  to  extinguish  human  scent,  the  slightest 
touch  of  which  warns  a  bear  and  will  alarm  him 
unless  he  is  very  hungry.  We  scented  the  soles 
of  our  feet  before  treading  round  a  trap ;  we 
scented  our  hands  before  touching  a  trap  or  bait; 
we  scented  the  sides  of  our  legs  to  leave  no  warn- 
ing on  the  branches  that  brushed  against  us. 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  225 

Unkempt  and  ragged  as  we  were,  we  trailed 
odorous  clouds  behind  us,  and  from  our  humble 
camp  ambrosial  airs,  whispering  of  roses  and  lilac, 
were  wafted  through  the  woods.  Hay  declared 
scent  is  as  much  an  attraction  to  bears  as  sugar 
and  sweets.  He  also  possessed  a  chemical  pre- 
paration, about  the  ingredients  of  which  he  was 
very  secret  and  mysterious,  and  which  he  used 
to  scatter  round  a  trap.  It  smelt  pleasantly  of 
ginger-bread,  fresh  from  the  oven,  and  he  declared 
that  with  this  chemical  bait  alone  he  had  caught 
bear,  without  any  meat. 

To  set  the  trap  Hay  chose  a  small  clump  of 
trees  or  big  bushes  growing  close  together,  and 
inside  this  he  tied  or  fixed  the  half  carcase  of  the 
deer.  He  fixed  and  tied  it  firmly,  for  otherwise 
some  small  beast  like  a  wild  cat,  snatching  at  it, 
might  draw  it  out.  Then  he  connected  the  stems 
with  a  barricade  of  sticks,  poles,  foliage,  and  brush, 
making  a  firm  fence  through  which  a  bear  would 
not  be  inclined  to  break,  but  in  this  barricade 
he  left  an  opening.  If  the  smell  of  blood,  carrion, 
and  perfumery  allured  a  bear,  he  would  see  a  rich 
meal  hung  up  and  an  open  passage  to  it.  In  this 
passage  Hay  dug  with  our  little  axe  a  shallow 
hole  of  the  required  shape.  A  little  chain,  with 
a  ring  at  the  end  of  it,  hung  to  the  trap.  Hay 
cut  a  sapling  down,  pared  down  one  end  and 
slipped  the  ring  over  it ;  into  the  same  end  he 
neatly  drove  a  little  wooden  wedge  to  prevent 
the  ring  slipping  off  again.  The  trap  itself  was 
still  closed.  Cleverly  using  his  feet  and  a  rope, 

P 


226  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

he  pressed  down  the  powerful  springs  and  opened 
out  the  monstrous  jaws,  large  enough  with  their 
grim  iron  teeth  to  catch  and  hold  the  foot  of  an 
elephant.  With  precautions,  and  very  slowly,  we 
lifted  the  trap  into  its  place.  The  drag  was  dropped 
and  concealed  in  the  brush  that  formed  the  fence. 
Earth  and  leaves  were  artfully  disposed  over  the 
iron  machine,  and  the  ground  where  it  was  buried 
was  made  to  present  an  innocent  surface. 

Some  practice  is  needed  before  you  can  set  a 
trap  with  perfect  correctness.  Set  it  too  deep,  and 
earth  will  clog  and  block  it ;  set  it  too  high,  and 
the  iron  will  emerge  to  frighten  the  bear ;  too 
slight  a  pole  is  not  a  sufficent  drag  ;  too  heavy  a 
pole  breaks  the  little  chain,  and  the  bear  leaves 
the  country  with  your  trap  on  one  of  his  paws ; 
omit  to  put  a  twig  under  the  pan,  and  a  small 
rodent — a  skunk — will  spring  the  trap  by  stepping 
on  it ;  the  huge  jaws  close  above  the  skunk's  head, 
and  he  scuttles  off  unharmed.  As  in  all  matters  of 
action,  there  is  a  liability  to  a  number  of  small 
errors,  each  small  but  each  fatal. 

I  was  very  unlucky  about  bear ;  or  perhaps, 
considering  my  marksmanship,  fortunate.  When  I 
joined  Hay  he  had  killed  two  in  the  last  week  ;  one 
a  big  grizzly  who  had  carried  the  trap  four  or  five 
miles.  Hay  had  followed  him  up  ;  his  first  shot 
had  hit  the  grizzly  in  the  chest,  the  second  broke 
his  back.  He  was  a  boar,  and  had  been  fighting 
rivals  so  furiously  that  his  skin  was  quite  damaged, 
torn  everywhere  by  their  claws  and  tushes.  Only 
the  back  was  intact,  which  Hay  had  skinned,  and 


A    THREE-FOOT   STOOL  227 

I  used  it  as  a  rug  during  my  stay  in  camp.  He 
said  that  the  deep  layers  of  fat  and  flesh  on  him 
were  black  and  bruised  from  the  smacks  his  ad- 
versaries had  given  him.  Perhaps  no  man  ever 
watched  the  onset  of  two  boar  grizzlies ;  but  if 
ever  any  one  has,  he  must  have  seen  the  most 
tremendous  duel  of  the  world  of  animals.  This 
beast,  for  example,  must  have  been  six  times  as 
heavy  as  a  man,  and  I  imagine  could  break  the 
neck  of  a  bull  with  one  bite.  The  other  bear  Hay 
never  killed  at  all ;  she  committed  suicide !  in- 
voluntarily, I  must  say.  Her  body  still  lay  where 
Hay  had  found  her  and  she  was  not  worth  skin- 
ning, for,  having  been  dead  a  considerable  time, 
her  fur  had  slipped.  Any  fur  appears  to  moult 
off  within  two  hours  of  death.  She  was  very  fat, 
and  maddened  by  the  torture  of  the  trap  she  had 
run  herself  to  death.  I  had  the  curiosity  to  follow 
the  track  of  the  poor  beast.  She  had  dashed  up 
a  steep  hill,  rolled  down  into  a  canyon,  raced 
up  another  precipice,  tearing  through  bushes  and 
brakes,  knocking  down  saplings  in  her  frenzy. 
Going  down  the  next  slope  she  died  suddenly, 
though  I  do  not  know  from  what  precise  cause. 
Hay,  on  finding  the  trap  gone,  had  tracked  her 
with  extreme  caution ;  hearing  no  bellowing,  he 
feared  she  might  try  some  ruse.  He  advanced 
slowly  and  with  circumspection.  As  he  peered  over 
the  ridge  down  the  slope  where  she  had  died,  he  saw 
her  lying  under  a  bush  a  few  yards  off,  asleep  as  he 
thought.  Dropping  on  his  knee,  he  rapidly  and 
courageously  planted  two  bullets  in  a  dead  bear. 


228  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

I  brought  Hay  misfortune,  as  the  next  five  weeks 
were  blank,  and  yet  we  were  always  close  upon 
the  bear.  They  seemed  to  march  in  a  scattered 
company,  each  member  of  which  lives  singly,  but 
the  troop  invade  or  retreat  from  a  country  simul- 
taneously. We  always  just  missed  reaching  one  of 
these  impis,  and  our  nearness  was  most  tantalising. 
Sometimes  their  sign  cannot  have  been  more  than 
a  day  or  two  old.  Once,  when  we  were  at  the  most 
lofty  and  inaccessible  point  we  reached,  into  which 
the  most  energetic  foremen  never  sent  their  cow- 
punchers,  we  came  upon  the  very  place  where 
several  bears  must  have  hibernated  in  holes  and 
caves.  They  have  a  curious  trick  while  they  are 
still  living  in  their  winter  quarters,  during  the  early 
spring,  of  always  setting  their  feet  in  the  same  spot 
as  they  leave  and  return  to  their  holes.  Their 
tracks  grow  as  deep  as  ruts ;  worn  tracks  of  this 
kind  were  all  round  the  peak  in  great  numbers.  A 
week  or  two  earlier  we  would  have  walked  straight 
into  the  little  hive.  Another  time  we  had  got  off 
our  donkeys  by  a  little  spring,  in  a  narrow  dell  of 
the  woods.  On  both  sides  of  the  dell  the  thickets 
grew  tall  and  thick,  and  it  was  evident  that  a  bear 
had  been  digging  at  this  spring  and  rolling  in  it, 
though  not  lately.  We  were  eating  a  little  piece  of 
cold  bread  and  meat  we  had  brought  for  lunch 
when  we  heard  the  branches  cracking  in  the  thicket 
far  above  us,  and  the  unmistakable  "  Wough ! 
wough  ! "  the  asthmatic  pant  the  bear  makes.  At 
the  same  time  our  donkeys  began  walking  off  down 
the  dell,  not  hurriedly — for  I  do  not  believe  these 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  229 

magnanimous  animals  would  deign  to  show  panic 
— but  as  if  they  had  suddenly  remembered  an 
appointment  at  some  distance.  We  ran  after  them 
to  get  our  rifles,  but  the  bear  had  gone  off  on  find- 
ing us  at  his  spring.  It  was  a  disappointment  to 
have  the  object  of  our  search  so  near,  and  yet 
invisible  and  inaccessible. 

The  wet  weather  which  had  marked  the  whole  of 
that  year  was  very  unfavourable  to  me  ;  it  was  the 
cause  of  a  very  abundant  crop  of  acorns.  Con- 
sequently the  bear  found  their  staple  food  every- 
where very  plentiful,  and  indulged  their  taste  for 
rapid  and  constant  travel ;  they  flitted  through  the 
mountains,  but  made  no  prolonged  stay :  in  a  dry 
year,  when  acorns  can  only  be  found  round  a  few, 
damp  places,  they  are  compelled  to  stay  round 
about  them.  It  was  certainly  the  proper  country 
for  bear ;  for  it  was  where  Hay  had  hunted  before 
when  the  ranchmen  who  employed  him  had  paid 
him  their  bounty  on  twenty-nine  head ;  in  spite  of 
this  slaughter  they  had  subsequently  suffered  so 
much  from  their  depredations  that  they  had  been 
compelled  to  take  him  into  their  service  again. 
Later  in  the  year  I  hunted  them  again  in  a  different 
fashion  but  with  the  same  blank  result,  owing  to  the 
same  circumstances.  For  ten  days  I  rode  to  bear- 
hounds,  and  if  we  had  only  been  able  to  find  I 
should  certainly  have  enjoyed  a  sport  for  which 
the  word  royal  is  inexact  and  weak,  for  it  is  not 
within  the  reach  of  kings.  There  are  only  a  few 
packs  in  the  world,  and  one  of  them,  belonging  to 
a  Mr.  Lyons,  came  into  our  country.  He  brought 


23o  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

with  him  a  pack  of  hounds,  rather  like  foxhounds, 
but  with  slightly  different  colouring,  larger  ears, 
lower  bodies,  and,  I  imagined,  far  less  pace,  hunted 
by  a  gaunt  and  aquiline  Mexican  and  his  whips. 
The  principle  of  the  sport  is  to  put  them  on  the 
trail  of  a  bear ;  they  run  him  till  they  bay  him,  and 
the  first  of  the  field  to  come  up  shoots  him  if  he 
can.     It  thus  combines  the  interest  of  hunting  with 
horse  and  hound  to  that  of  big-game  shooting,  and 
must  be  unimaginably  exciting.     The  bear  does  not 
run  far ;  the  gross  beast  is  too  obese  in  the  autumn, 
and  even  to  save  his  life  can  only  go,  vomiting,  for 
a  few  miles ;  then  he  waits  on  his  haunches  for  his 
pursuers,  with  the  pack  yelping  round  him.     But 
he  is  hard  to  follow,  because  no  natural  obstacles 
arrest  him.     If  he  reaches  the  brink  of  a  cliff  he 
rolls  down  it,  as  he  does  down  all  declivities,  and 
he  will  climb  up  anything  except  a  smooth  over- 
hanging rock.     Mr.  Lyons'  outfit  was  on  a  great 
scale,  appropriate  to  the  dignity  of  the  sport :   a 
large  remuda  of  superb  horses  and  many  Mexican 
servants,  besides  the  Mexican  huntsmen  ;  immense 
tents  to  sleep  in,  and  a  whole  batterie  de  cuisine. 
Moving  from  one  spot  to  another  with  the  pomp 
of  a  little  army,  it  swept  round  a  great  circle  of 
country   in   three   weeks  without   finding,   though 
bear  sign  was  common  enough.     I  and  two  of  my 
friends  joined  it  for  some  time,  and  though  we  got 
a  good  deal  to  do — hunting  to  feed  the  hounds  and 
ourselves,   and   looking  for    bear   sign— we   never 
enjoyed  a  run. 

After  the  five  unsuccessful  weeks  with    Hay  I 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  231 

found  it  necessary  to  ride  to  town  with  a  mule  to 
bring  back  food,  and  for  my  letters.  Town  was 
ninety  miles  away,  and  I  returned  to  Hay  only  on 
the  seventh  day.  To  my  intense  vexation  I  found 
he  had  killed  five  bear  in  the  interval.  In  his  own 
language,  "  he  had  got  in  among  them  " — met  one 
of  these  vagrant  bands.  Three  were  small  black 
bears,  two  large  brown  ones,  one  of  which  had  a 
fur  of  deep  orange-golden  brown.  He  had  caught 
them  all  at  the  same  trap,  resetting  it  day  by  day. 
The  spot  looked  like  a  shambles,  strewn  with  putri- 
fying  carcases,  the  reek  of  which  poisoned  the  air 
around.  The  fate  of  the  first  bear  he  had  caught, 
a  little  black  one,  was  curious.  While  it  was  caught 
in  the  trap  presumably  the  other  two  big  brown 
bears  had  come  along,  and  had  eaten  it  and  the 
bait.  It  is  possible  that  it  was  still  alive,  and  that 
they  had  killed  it.  Its  bones  were  there,  picked 
clean,  broken,  and  scattered  in  the  usual  bear  style. 
This  cannibalism  was  irritating  to  Hay,  for  he 
was  paid  a  fixed  amount  for  each  scalp  he  pre- 
sented. Now  so  much  of  this  bear  was  buried 
in  the  stomach  of  his  fellows  that  only  a  fragment 
of  the  scalp  was  left,  and  Hay  was(doubtful  whether 
it  would  be  honoured. 

At  my  return  the  bear  again  disappeared.  The 
rains  set  in  earlier  than  usual  and  heavier,  which 
spoilt  the  pleasure  of  living  in  the  open  air.  Be- 
sides, the  ground  was  turned  to  mud,  and  twice 
we  found  it  had  clogged  the  springs  of  our  traps 
and  they  had  failed  to  act ;  each  time  the  bait  had 
been  torn  out  and  there  were  marks  of  great  teeth 


232  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

where  the  backbone  of  the  deer  had  been  broken 
in  two.  We  were  on  the  point  of  moving  out  of 
the  country.  Our  traps  were  strung  out  along  a 
ridge  and  we  had  visited  them  and  decided  to  take 
them  up  on  the  next  day.  But  on  our  way  back 
to  camp  we  found  a  perfectly  fresh  track.  At  one 
point  in  the  path  the  whitish  trunk  of  a  cotton- 
wood  tree  lay  across  it.  Going  over  it  the  bear, 
presumably  a  grizzly,  had  smudged  the  mark  of  his 
paw  upon  it.  The  print  was  very  clear-cut  and 
enormous,  the  paw  being  muddy  and  the  bark 
offering  a  white  surface.  Across  the  ball  of  the 
foot  it  was  as  broad  as  my  hand  is  long,  from  the 
tip  of  the  middle  finger  to  the  wrist.  But  it  was 
too  late  in  the  afternoon  for  us  to  take  the  trail  up. 
The  next  day  we  visited  two  of  our  traps,  but  our 
giant  was  in  neither  of  them.  The  third  lay  in  a 
little  open  glade  on  the  edge  of  tangled  and  in- 
tricate thickets.  As  we  entered  it  we  saw  a  brown 
head  peeping  at  us  over  a  bush.  Listless  and  half- 
asleep  as  we  were,  the  high  and  pleasurable  ex- 
citement mounted  to  our  brain,  in  a  flood.  It  was 
a  brown  bear.  Though  it  was  as  heavy  as  Hay, 
it  must  still  be  called  a  cub,  for  it  had  come  there 
with  its  mother,  cubs  staying  with  their  mothers 
till  they  are  more  than  two  years  old.  It  was 
quite  gentle,  and  stared  at  us  in  mild  astonishment. 
I  suggested  trying  to  take  it  back  to  camp,  but  Hay 
rightly  refused.  So  I  took  the  small  axe  and  broke 
the  skull  of  this  innocent.  It  seems  murderous, 
but  our  position  was  far  from  secure,  for  in  cases 
like  this  the  mother  usually  hovers  round  in  a 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  233 

fury  and  rushes  back  when  her  child  cries.  At 
any  moment  her  charge  was  to  be  expected,  and 
while  we  were  skinning  the  cub,  Hay  jumped 
every  time  he  heard  a  branch  crack  in  the  thickets. 
A  she-bear  robbed  of  her  cub  is  almost  as  formid- 
able as  she  is  supposed  to  be  ;  and  in  this  case  she 
would  have  had  the  great  tactical  advantage  of 
charging  us  from  the  upper  ground  or  being  in- 
visible in  the  bush  till  within  a  few  yards  of  us. 
There  had  been  terrible  scenes  of  wild  anger  all 
round  the  trap,  and  the  whole  affair  could  be  re- 
constituted. There  was  another  cub  as  well  as 
the  mother.  Next  to  the  trap  there  was  an  ancient 
pine  as  broad  and  thick  as  the  column  of  a  cathe- 
dral, rising  high  above  all  the  trees.  We  con- 
jectured that  the  other  cub  had  run  up  to  the 
top  of  it,  terrified  at  the  report  of  the  trap  closing, 
for  it  is  like  the  noise  of  a  pistol.  The  mother 
exercised  her  fury  on  everything  round,  knocking 
down  saplings  right  and  left,  and  tearing  at  the 
larger  trees,  but  the  trap  itself  was  undisturbed. 
The  big  pine  was  the  special  mark  of  her  anger. 
She  had  clawed  it  all  round ;  the  bark  had  been 
torn  off  in  long  strips,  and  it  was  scored  with  long 
scratches.  She  must  have  climbed  to  the  top  of  it, 
perhaps  to  catch  the  other  cub  and  cuff  it,  for  she- 
bears  relieve  themselves  in  this  fashion  as  petulant 
nurses  do  on  unoffending  children.  In  any  case, 
the  limbs  and  arms  of  the  pine  lay  in  voluminous 
heaps  round  its  base,  like  those  of  a  mast  shot  off 
in  battle.  But  she  did  not  return  either  then  or  at 
any  other  time. 


234  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

The  young  fellow  we  had  caught  had  been 
naughty,  and  the  story  of  his  disobedience  and 
its  consequences  would  no  doubt  become  one  of 
the  traditional  tales  of  all  bear  nurseries.  His  fate 
was  the  punishment  of  his  bad  behaviour.  A  cub 
is  not  often  caught,  for  when  a  mother  bear  ap- 
proaches a  carcase,  she  leaves  her  two  whelps  at  a 
distance  and  inspects  it  carefully  in  person.  The 
children  sit  by  on  their  haunches,  with  their  fore- 
paws  drooping,  looking  very  foolish ;  if  either 
approaches  before  the  inspection  is  finished  the 
mother  cuffs  him  heavily,  and  one  of  her  blows 
can  knock  him  right  over.  This  young  fellow 
had  disregarded  the  safe  rule  on  seeing  a  tempting 
piece  of  deer  hanging  from  a  tree,  and  with  care- 
less infant  mind  had  stepped  into  the  trap.  In  one 
of  his  many  previous  experiences  Hay  had  once 
caught  and  killed  a  she-bear  and  captured  her  two 
little  cubs.  They  were  quite  small,  and  the  harm- 
less, furry  little  things  had  remained  playing  their 
childish  games  round  the  trap  which  had  caught 
their  mother.  Hay  had  taken  them  in  his  care ; 
he  had  made  two  rawhide  bags  into  which  he  put 
them  to  travel  in,  allowing  their  heads  to  project 
from  the  mouth.  These  two  bags  he  slung  like 
panniers  on  the  back  of  an  old  donkey,  and  in  this 
fashion  he  carried  these  adopted  creatures  down  into 
civilisation,  squealing.  He  had  ultimately  disposed 
of  them,  and  they  had  had  an  unusual  fate.  The 
owner  of  one  determined  to  place  him  in  a  Zoo  in 
the  East ;  so  he  had  sent  him  by  American  parcel 
post,  the  Wells  Fargo  Company,  imprisoned  in  a 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  235 

small  wooden  cage.  The  infant  bear  had  grown  in 
strength  and  independence,  and  the  train  had  not 
gone  far  when  he  burst  the  bars  of  his  cage  and 
issued  from  it,  to  the  surprise  of  the  Wells  Fargo 
agent  in  the  car,  who  climbed  out  and  took  refuge 
on  the  roof.  During  the  rest  of  the  journey  the 
young  bear  occupied  the  interior  as  his  private 
car,  undisturbed  by  the  presence  of  any  other 
traveller,  and  searching  the  parcels  for  sweet  things. 
The  other  cub  had  been  purchased  by  a  saloon- 
keeper who  kept  him  chained  on  his  premises  for 
the  amusement  of  his  customers.  Under  their 
tuition  he  developed  a  taste  for  alcohol,  and  even 
learnt  to  knock  the  top  off  a  beer-bottle  and  drain 
it  of  its  contents.  The  appearance  of  such  an  in- 
telligent and  human  characteristic  in  a  wild  animal 
attracted  universal  attention,  and  crowds  flocked 
to  see  him  perform  this  feat.  To  satisfy  public 
curiosity  he  had  to  take  to  drink,  and  soon  rivalled 
the  most  noted  topers  :  his  capacity  was  enormous, 
and  his  parents  having  gifted  him  with  a  strong 
constitution,  there  is  no  knowing  to  what  lengths 
he  might  not  have  gone.  He  might  even  have 
overthrown  the  established  superiority  in  this  re- 
spect of  man  over  the  animals.  But  his  remarkable 
career  was  cut  short.  One  day  in  a  state  of  intoxi- 
cation he  fell  on  the  jagged  point  of  a  broken  beer- 
bottle,  and  inflicted  a  fatal  wound  on  himself.  It 
was  an  appropriate  and  not  unbecoming  end  to  a 
manful  life. 

One  of  the  haunches  of  the  bear  we  cut  off  to  eat; 
it  tastes  like  young  pig.     The  fat  we  reduced,  for  it 


236  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

is  excellent  for  cooking,  as  rich  as  butter,  and  made 
our  bread  taste  like  pastry.  The  rest  of  the  body 
we  hung  up  as  a  bait ;  gruesome,  but  there  is  none 
better  for  old  boar  bear,  who  are  always  trying  to 
eat  their  young.  This  is  the  reason  why  the  cubs 
stay  so  long  with  their  mothers.  In  spite  of  my 
suggestions,  Hay,  obstinately  careless,  refused  to 
tie  the  bait  to  the  trap  and  inserted  it  loosely  in 
the  forks  of  a  tree.  My  prognostics  were  fulfilled. 
A  big  bear,  prsumably  the  one  whose  track  had 
been  so  neatly  marked  on  the  log,  hooked  it  out 
without  springing  the  trap.  We  found  the  body 
picked  quite  clean,  and  broad  tracks,  effaced  by 
the  rain,  all  round.  My  patience  had  been  taxed 
by  days  and  nights  of  incessant  rain,  and  sleeping 
in  a  wet  bed  had  drawn  on  it  heavily.  At  this 
mishap  it  ran  out  completely.  I  parted  from  Hay, 
and  drove  my  donkeys  back  to  the  ranch. 


CHAPTER   X 

THE  date  of  our  departure  from  Diamond  Hearts 
was  approaching,  and  Belphcebe  and  I  were  wan- 
dering to  have  a  last  view  of  the  beautiful  lone 
scenery,  walking  along  the  flat  heights  of  the  mesa 
from  which  the  long  ridge  swept  down  far  below, 
with  the  canyon.  At  that  distance  the  ranch  had 
sunk  to  the  size  of  a  toy,  made  of  little  logs,  and 
the  boisterous  creek  was  diminished  to  a  thin  silver 
thread.  Belphcebe  leant  on  my  arm,  and  neither 
of  us  spoke :  our  senses  were  taken  up  with  the 
vernal  delight  of  the  morning.  At  last  I  asked — 

"  Is  it  to-morrow,  or  the  next  day,  that  Reinhold 
is  leaving  to  go  back  to  Germany  ?  " 

She  did  not  know.  I  almost  looked  upon  his 
departure  as  a  riddance.  His  eloquence,  in  spite 
of  its  originality  and  learning,  wearied  me ;  his 
company  was  a  strain,  and  we  could  never  unbend 
to  the  level  of  exchanging  ideas  and  common- 
places. He  exposed  theories,  and  invited  argu- 
ment ;  and  discussion  with  him  was  like  battling 
against  a  stream,  fatigue  without  progress.  Besides, 
it  had  grown  rare  for  him  to  even  admit  dialogue 
into  conversation.  He  almost  invariably  preferred 
to  indulge  in  monologues,  of  which  he  was  the 
speaker  and  I  the  audience.  The  native  dog- 


238  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

matism  with  which  he  made  his  statements  was 
provocative,  and  it  was  enhanced  by  his  rather 
harsh,  guttural  accent ;  and  he  had  little  regard  for 
the  prejudices  of  his  audience.  Altogether  I  had 
come  to  consider  him  rather  boorish.  Even  his 
stories  had  lost  their  attraction.  They  were  too 
long,  and  he  relished  their  relation  too  much. 
An  anecdote  should  trip  off  the  tongue  with  a 
run  and  pointed  finish.  His  dragged  on  through 
interminable  windings  and  lengths.  Belphcebe 
looked  up  at  me,  and  with  sure  instinct  guessed 
my  thoughts.  She  asked — 

"  Do  you  think  he  talks  too  much  ?  " 

Thus  put  to  the  touch,  I  replied — 

"  Really,  at  times  I  think  him  intolerable." 

Belphcebe  had  an  inveterate  aversion  to  discord, 
and  her  efforts  were  always  directed  to  remove 
it  in  the  seed.  She  exerted  herself  to  allay  the 
irritation  which  the  acuteness  of  her  soft  heart 
warned  her  existed  between  her  two  friends. 

"  He  is  really  very  interesting,  isn't  he  ? "  she 
said.  tl  He  must  be  very  clever  :  I'm  sure  I  do  not 
understand  half  he  says." 

I  laughed  at  this  testimonial  :  but  she  con- 
tinued— 

"  I'm  sure  he  is  very  kind  too.  He  took  an 
awful  lot  of  trouble  getting  that  poem  for  me, 
which  he  is  going  to  give  me  :  what  was  it  ?  " 

Reinhold  had  said  a  few  days  before  that  he  had 
seen  a  poem  in  the  Amphipolis  Advertiser  during 
his  residence  at  Amphipolis  which  he  thought  Bel- 
phcebe would  like.  Considering  this  to  be  a  hint, 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  239 

she  had  asked  him  to  get  it  for  her,  and  he  had 
entered  into  a  correspondence  for  that  purpose. 
I  answered — 

"  Oh,  that  poem ;  why  did  you  give  him  the 
trouble  to  get  it  ?  it  is  not  likely  to  be  anything 
much,  out  of  a  local  newspaper.  Probably  a 
rhymed  advertisement  for  a  patent  medicine.  H  o  w- 
ever,  there  may  be  something  in  it ;  and  at  least 
he  said  it  seemed  to  be  by  an  Englishman." 

We  stopped  to  look  at  the  landscape,  now  bathed 
in  a  soft  benignant  light.  Pointing  out  far  down  the 
canyon,  I  said — 

"  Look  at  that  little  old  cloud  over  there.  We 
may  have  a  storm  before  this  evening." 

A  huge  black  cloud,  single  and  alone  below  a 
cloudless  sky,  was  slowly  moving  up  between  the 
steep  black  sides  of  the  canyon,  like  a  ship  between 
two  fortresses,  discharging  volleys  of  white  hail. 
We  stared  at  this  phenomenon. 

We  were  interrupted  by  the  noise  of  some  one 
approaching,  and  turned  round  to  see  Reinhold's 
sturdy  form  clambering  towards  us.  He  reached 
us  and  waved  a  piece  of  paper — 

"  Here  is  your  poem,"  he  said  cheerfully.  "  It  will 
just  suit  you  two." 

Belphcebe  accepted  it  and  replied — 

"  Thank  you  very  much :  but  I  think  you  ought 
to  read  it  to  us." 

I  took  the  piece  of  paper  from  his  hands  and 
proposed  we  should  first  sit  down,  and  we  found  a 
piece  of  dry  rock  warmed  with  the  mild  sun  which 
shone  over  the  mountain  side.  As  Reinhold  panted, 


240  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

I  asked  him  about  his  arrangements  for  leaving,  and 
offered  to  help  him  to  drive  his  two  pack  mules  to 
town.  Turning  over  the  crumpled  newspaper  slip 
on  which  the  poem  was  printed,  I  saw  a  column  of 
base-ball  news  and  said — 

"  I  really  believe  Americans  are  keener  about 
games  than  we  are." 

Reinhold  had  by  this  time  unfortunately  recovered 
his  breath  again  :  this  remark  started  him  like  a 
machine,  and  he  burst  into  a  harangue. 

"  As  far  as  my  own  observations  go,  the  only  real 
occupation  of  Anglosaxondom,  and  its  most  definite 
tribute  to  civilisation,  is  games  of  ball.  To  these 
all  ages  and  sexes  devote  themselves,  with  feet  and 
with  hands,  with  instruments  of  different  kinds, 
with  balls  of  different  shapes  and  sizes.  The  mak- 
ing of  money  or  friends  or  families  is  subsidiary  to 
this  main  object,  a  mere  gathering  of  fuel  for  the 
fire.  Their  ambitions  centre  in  a  ball,  a  lawn 
tennis,  a  real  tennis,  a  racquet,  a  squash  racquet, 
a  fives,  a  hockey  ball.  The  red  cricket-ball  is  the 
dream  of  his  boyhood,  the  white  golf-ball  the 
consolation  of  his  old  age.  Football  offers  the 
cis-atlantic  Anglo-Saxon  two  great  and  splendid 
genera  and  a  rich  selection  of  minor  species,  not 
to  mention  the  great  transatlantic  game.  Patriotic 
antiquarians  have  revived  the  bowl  and  the  skittle 
ball.  The  croquet  ball  is  a  gallant  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  existence  of  the  weaker  sex.  Asia,  the 
ancient,  has  yielded  him  the  polo  ball,  and  America, 
the  new,  the  lacrosse  and  the  base  ball.  The 
real  scientific  distinction  between  cis-atlantic  and 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  241 

transatlantic  Anglo-Saxons  is  that  one  plays  cricket 
and  the  other  plays  base-ball.  Ingenious  and  bene- 
ficent men,  fearing  the  natural  games  of  ball  might 
become  exhausted,  have  invented  new  artificial  ones, 
the  push,  the  basket,  the  vigoro  ball.  The  real 
danger  did  not  lie  in  that  direction.  The  outdoor 
games  were  flourishing  :  it  was  the  absence  of  any 
great  national  indoor  game  of  ball  that  was  omi- 
nous. Millions  were  and  are  thereby  condemned 
to  periods  of  enforced  inactivity.  Some  but  not 
altogether  satisfactory  attempts  have  been  made 
to  supply  this  want,  and  under  their  own  roof 
they  need  never  be  quite  idle.  But  they  have  to 
content  themselves  with  the  billiard,  the  bagatelle, 
the  pool,  the  pyramid,  the  spiropol,  the  skittle  jack, 
the  pirouette,  the  ping-pong  ball.  None  of  them 
can  be  called  successful  or  adequate.  There  is  no 
need,  however,  to  be  despondent :  a  great  indoor 
game  will  ultimately  be  found,  and  the  national 
enterprise  be  prosecuted  by  night  as  well  as  by 
day.  As  a  final  expression  of  Anglo-Saxon  genius, 
cricket  has  been  elaborated  into  a  game,  the  like 
of  which  is  not  to  be  found  in  universe  or  time, 
a  game  which  lasts  three  whole  uninterrupted  days. 
Unshackled  by  tradition,  younger  British  nations 
like  Australia  refused  to  be  confined  by  temporal 
limits  of  any  kind,  and  with  the  constant  improve- 
ment of  pitches  and  batting  there  is  every  prospect 
that  the  game  will  be  extended  so  as  to  occupy  a 
calculable  section  of  a  man's  life. 

"  It  would  be  unjust  to  call  these  pursuits  only 
relaxations.     For  the  leading  and   master  classes 

Q 


242  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

they  are  the  real,  if  not  the  sole,  method  of  educa- 
tion. The  student's  ability  in  them  is  a  mark  of 
worth  to  his  fellows,  and  of  moral  goodness  to 
his  master.  Great  and  wealthy  foundations  estab- 
lished for  academic  purposes,  have  been  success- 
fully adapted  to  national  needs  and  brought  into 
harmony  with  the  national  temper.  To  propel  a 
ball  with  force  and  accuracy  gains  youth  the 
admiration  of  his  fellows,  the  favour  of  maids, 
the  approbation  of  elders.  It  is  the  standard  of 
virtue,  the  social  passport,  the  training  of  officers, 
the  guarantee  of  business  success  and  of  pro- 
fessional eminence.  I  remember  that  the  leading 
organs  of  public  opinion  sufficiently  explained  the 
appointment  of  Mr.  Alfred  Lyttelton  to  the  rank 
of  Cabinet  Minister  by  his  skill  as  a  cricketer.  It 
is  the  real  subject  of  popular  interest,  as  your  press 
shows,  and  the  importance  of  public  life  is  trivial 
in  comparison.  Its  greatest  exponents  are  the 
national  heroes.  The  laurel  grows  neither  for 
the  victor  or  the  poet.  Fame  lies  in  the  mouths 
and  ears  of  men,  and  let  all  names  be  hushed  at 
that  of  C.  B.  Fry. 

"  Here  again  I  anticipate  a  new  religion,  though  it 
has  not  yet  been  quite  formulated.  The  best  of  all 
rites,  as  you  know  on  high  authority,  is  adoration 
pure  :  and  if  constant  thought,  deep  veneration 
and  enthusiastic  practice  make  up  a  belief,  these 
balls  have  a  great  number  of  believers  and  are 
nothing  less  than  a  creed.  Mothers  invoke  this 
spirit  for  their  children,  strong  men  are  sustained 
and  guided  by  it " 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  243 

Here  Belphoebe,  who  had  been  listening  to  him 
with  mild  eyes,  said — 

"  I  do  not  believe  you  really  think  these  games 
important.  You  are  only  making  fun  of  them, 
aren't  you?" 

Reinhold  looked  at  her  calmly,  and  said  in  a 
rather  arrogant  tone — 

"We  Germans  cannot  compete  with  you  there, 
we  prefer  other  fields  of  achievement.  We  are 
willing  to  acknowledge  your  athletic  supremacy, 
and  you,  I  hope,  acknowledge  ours  in  the  whole 
province  of  thought.  You  do  unconsciously,  I 
know.  Your  philosophy  is  the  idealism  of  Hegel : 
your  scholarship,  as  far  as  I  observed  it  at  Oxford, 
relies  on  the  studies  and  texts  of  the  Germans. 
The  great  mass  of  scientific  researches  is  made 
by  us  and  borrowed  by  you.  The  great  studies 
in  the  origin  of  the  Bible,  the  sacred  book  of  Chris- 
tianity, were  made  by  us  during  the  last  cen- 
tury and  taught  to  you  :  we  can  claim  modern 
religion  as  our  creation.  The  history  not  only  of 
our  own  but  of  every  country  has  been  written 
by  my  countrymen,  and  they  were  the  first  to 
explore  the  origin  of  even  your  institutions;  no 
country  can  show  historians  of  the  calibre  of  our 
Mommsens  and  Gierkes.  All  the  musicians  ex- 
cept a  few  limping  Latins  and  Slavs,  are  ours. 
I  heard  no  others  in  your  country :  and  if  we 
do  not  excel  in  the  other  arts,  it  is  because 
we  neglect  them,  it  is  because  our  real  strength 
does  not  lie  in  the  sphere  of  thought,  though 
in  that  sphere  we  so  unquestionably  lead  and 


244  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

surpass    all    others.      It    lies   in    the   province    of 
action. 

"  Too  long  did  Germany  remain  dreaming  while 
others  were  doing.  But  now  it  is  in  the  arts  of 
government  that  the  world  has  become  our  pupil. 
War,  the  crucial  test  of  nations,  and  all  its  multiple 
preparations,  can  only  be  learnt  from  us  :  our 
armies  are  the  models  all  endeavour  to  copy.  In  a 
day  or  two  we  can  put  two  or  three  million  trained 
men  in  the  field.  The  officials,  imperial  and  muni- 
cipal, of  our  States  are  effective  and  capable  as  no 
others  are.  Next  to  them  your  public  authorities 
seem  inert  or  non-existent,  and  as  much  behind 
ours  as  Moroccan  Kadis  are  behind  them.  They 
give  our  masses  protection  and  assistance  such  as 
no  others  enjoy.  Besides  the  ordinary  work  of 
government,  they  do  for  them  almost  gratuitously 
what  the  individual  capitalist  does  elsewhere  at  a 
huge  price.  Our  officials  can  run  railways  at  a 
large  profit.  They  can  conduct  for  the  benefit 
of  the  whole  public  the  enormous  business  of 
insurance  against  fire,  accident,  old  age,  invalidity, 
and  even  worklessness — which  even  your  insur- 
ance companies  cannot  do.  For  the  employee 
they  find  an  employer ;  they  give  him  legal 
advice  gratuitously,  one  of  the  great  needs  of 
the  poor ;  they  find  him  work ;  they  find  him 
houses ;  they  even  act  as  pawnbroker.  They 
multiply  devices  to  protect  that  huge  blind  giant, 
the  people,  from  his  thousand  parasites,  devices 
which  your  statesmen  have  not  even  heard  of  in 
their  insular  ignorance  and  prejudice.  Our  leaders 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  245 

had  fully  established  a  complete  system  of  edu- 
cation for  us,  elementary,  secondary,  academic, 
general  and  technical,  half  a  century  before  yours 
had  begun  even  to  think  of  the  subject,  and  yours 
have  not  come  even  now  to  a  final  decision.  Legal 
institutions  are  to  a  nation  what  bones  are  to 
man's  body,  the  framework,  without  which  neither 
strength  nor  growth  are  possible.  We  have  lately 
had  a  Code  presented  to  us  which,  according  to 
your  own  great  authority,  Maitland,  puts  our  law  a 
century  in  front  of  yours.  How  can  you  question 
our  superiority  ?  Almost  every  year  a  Cabinet 
Minister  of  yours  comes  over  to  us  to  inquire  into 
the  methods  of  our  departments :  I  have  never 
heard  of  any  of  ours  going  to  you  for  any  purpose, 
except  to  acquire  information  about  thoroughbreds. 
With  all  these  advantages,  which  we  owe  not  to 
accident  but  to  ourselves,  it  is  not  surprising  that 
we  add  a  million  to  the  number  of  our  citizens  every 
year,  and  that  our  commerce  in  a  decade  or  two  has 
almost  caught  yours  up,  in  spite  of  its  long  start. 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  position  in  which 
these  forces  will  place  us  in  the  course  of  the 
century.  Other  States  will  become  our  clients,  and 
revolve  round  us  as  satellites.  We  will  found  an 
Empire  to  unite  west  and  east.  By  a  system  of 
railways  we  will  connect  Amsterdam  and  Bagdad, 
Trieste  and  Hamburg.  The  Rhine,  the  Danube, 
and  the  Euphrates  will  bear  their  wealth  to  the 
German  or  Germanised  populations  on  their  banks. 
The  Atlantic  and  the  Mediterranean  and  Indian 
Oceans  will  wash  our  shores  and  bear  our  count- 


246  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

less  fleets.  Our  glories  will  surpass  the  Roman,  for 
we  shall  enjoy  the  double  supremacy  of  culture  and 
government.  We  will  carry  the  light  of  European 
civilisation  in  one  hand  and  the  sword  to  defend 
it  in  the  other.  Who  has  a  better  claim  to  do  so 
than  us  ?  We  alone  can  think  and  breed  and  rule 
and  fight. 

"  Only  two  obstacles  stand  in  our  road,  the  vindic- 
tive hordes  of  the  Slavs  and  your  wealth.  But  we 
have  crushed  the  Slavs  under  our  heels  before,  and 
will  do  so  again.  And  the  mountains  of  British  gold 
will  crumble  at  the  touch  of  Teutonic  iron." 

"  Don't  you  be  so  sure,  my  dear  fellow,"  I  was 
compelled  to  reply,  at  this  aggression. 

"  How,"  he  retorted — "  how  can  the  result  be 
doubtful  ?  Our  national  leaders  are  professors  ; 
your  national  leaders  are  sportsmen.  Do  you 
expect  ignorance  to  overcome  knowledge,  and  the 
laws  of  this  world  to  be  reversed  in  your  favour  ?  " 

This  remark  made  it  impossible  for  me  to  avoid 
engaging  in  a  controversy  in  which  I  had  to  under- 
take a  part  I  was  not  capable  of  playing. 

"My  dear  Reinhold,"  I  said,  "your  civilisation,  if 
you  will  allow  me  to  say  so,  admirable  as  it  is,  is 
rather  too  new  a  growth.  Sudden  development 
is  exposed  to  sudden  arrest.  A  century  ago  you 
were  hardly  a  nation  at  all,  hardly  even  in  senti- 
ment. You  had  no  government,  no  army,  no 
administration,  no  law,  no  finance,  no  industries, 
no  commerce,  no  wealth,  and  you  had  almost 
forgotten  your  own  language.  We  were  not  very 
different  from  what  we  are  now,  and  if  we  have  not 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  247 

covered  the  same  distance  in  the  interval,  our  con- 
tinuous growth  in  the  past  gives  us  some  hope  of 
an  equally  continuous  growth  in  the  future.  In 
reckonings  of  this  sort  an  addition  of  material  advan- 
tage only  is  misleading.  All  the  factors  are  not 
concrete  in  this  kind  of  calculating.  You  do  not 
estimate  at  very  proper  value  the  long  and  not  dis- 
creditable history  of  a  people.  Our  unity,  accom- 
plished so  long  that  we  forget  it,  gives  us  secret 
sources  of  strength.  Centuries  of  common  action 
have  endowed  us  with  treasures  of  endurance  and 
devotion  which  cannot  be  measured.  Balance- 
sheets  cannot  be  published  of  these  resources,  or 
departments  formed  to  develop  them,  but  they 
exist,  and  you  should  not  omit  them  in  forming 
your  prophecies.  We  have  repelled  together  all 
kinds  of  attacks.  You  can  hardly  have  the  same 
confidence ;  though  I  am  not  well  informed,  I 
believe  Germans  have  fought  together  but  once, 
and  that  lately,  and  with  much  difficulty.  How 
will  your  Colossus  behave  when,  in  the  struggle 
your  prognostics  anticipate,  he  is  properly  grappled ; 
when  the  Slavs,  who,  though  more  barbarous,  have 
more  vitality,  and  the  Latins,  still  superior  in  civi- 
lisation if  inferior  in  vitality,  clasp  him  round  the 
middle  and  our  sea  power  takes  him  by  the  throat 
and  chokes  him  ?  Besides,  the  novelty  of  your  posi- 
tion gives  you  other  inconveniences  which  we  escape. 
Long  enjoyment  has  made  us  accustomed  to  an  im- 
portant position :  thus  we  escape  the  notorious  evils 
of  arrogance  and  unscrupulous  ambition,  and  in 
our  relations  with  other  States  are  not  grasping 


248  A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

and  insolent.     This  good  fortune  of  ours  should  be 
put  down  to  our  account  in  your  calculations. 

"You  hardly  do  justice  to  our  institutions  and 
their  real  strength.  You  must  excuse  their  appa- 
rent chaos  and  jumbled  antiquity.  The  constant 
pressure  of  neighbours  on  our  frontiers  is  unfelt 
by  us,  the  wad  of  the  sea  intervening  to  diminish 
or  destroy  it.  As  long  as  this  water  is  there,  our 
dangers  and  risks  must  seem  remote.  Conse- 
quently we  do  not  study  the  methods  of  rivals, 
we  are  not  compelled  to  adopt  their  reforms,  most 
of  which  remain  unknown  to  us,  or  inflict  painful 
and  sweeping  changes  on  ourselves.  Ensconced 
in  our  quaint  and  comfortable  institutions  we 
renovate  them  piecemeal,  at  our  ease,  hurting 
no  one,  and  unaware  of  and  indifferent  to  their 
irreconcilable  inconsistencies,  their  baffling  variety, 
their  inextricable  confusion,  and  their  unintelligible 
antiquity.  We  have  had  the  misfortune  always  to 
be  secure  and  safe,  and  still  remain  in  the  same 
unlucky  position.  But  we  have  compensations ; 
in  our  isolation  we  have  an  opportunity  of  deve- 
loping our  institutions  in  a  fashion  different  to 
others,  for  we  are  not  constantly  forced  to  imitate. 
For  this  reason  it  is  difficult  for  you  to  appreciate 
their  value.  They  are  singular,  and  for  that  very 
reason  the  ordinary  standards  you  bring  cannot  be 
applied  to  them.  We,  and  we  alone,  have  created 
and  used  a  home-made  system  of  law,  and  have 
not,  like  others,  borrowed  it  wholesale  from  the 
Romans.  Our  economic  and  fiscal  system  is 
peculiar  to  ourselves,  and  perhaps  exactly  ad- 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  249 

justed  to  our  peculiar  conditions.  If  we  cannot 
array  a  nation  in  arms,  we  have  invented  a  unique 
colonial  army  to  perform  the  duties  our  special 
colonial  situation  in  the  world  requires.  Repre- 
sentative institutions  have  not  been  worked  unin- 
terruptedly or  successfully  anywhere  but  in  our 
island  :  our  Parliament  is  the  recognised  mother 
of  parliaments,  and  few  of  her  children  are  as  active 
and  robust  as  she.  There  is  thus  an  intense  origin- 
ality visible  in  our  political  arrangements  which 
may  well  be  symptoms  of  great  national  strength  ; 
perhaps  as  clear  signs  of  power  as  the  impressive 
spectacle  of  your  scientific  and  modernised  organi- 
sation. The  sight  of  our  easy-going  and  slack 
attitude  contrasts  unfavourably  with  yours,  armed, 
alert,  constantly  prepared,  and  forging  new  arms, 
defensive  and  offensive.  But  we  have  never  been 
otherwise ;  yet  in  the  crisis  the  designing  mind 
and  the  heroic  arm  have  never  failed  us  ;  and  in 
peace  we  have  accumulated  a  huge  population  and 
immeasurable  wealth  on  a  small  island,  lost  in  fogs 
and  cold,  hanging  at  the  flanks  of  Europe.  Our 

colonies "  Bancroft  Librar* 

Reinhold  interrupted  me. 

"  I  cannot  understand  your  pride  about  colonies : 
you  govern  black  men  well,  as  in  India :  these  are 
conquests,  not  colonies ;  you  cannot  do  anything 
with  whites.  You  have  bungled  all  your  enter- 
prises ;  you  have  been  eight  centuries  in  your 
colony  Ireland,  and  it  still  remains  hostile.  •  Your 
prosperous  colonies,  and  so  far  the  only  ones 
which  have  grown  up  into  a  great  nation,  have 


250  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

left  you  and  become  this  huge  country.  You  are 
crabbed,  you  do  not  mix  easily,  you  cannot  amal- 
gamate with  your  French  in  Canada  or  your  Dutch 
in  South  Africa.  You  are,  I  think,  the  worst 
people  in  Europe  at  absorbing  other  races.  Look 
at  the  French  ;  they  have  Gallicised  completely  the 
large  pieces  they  took  away  from  Italy  less  than 
half  a  century  ago.  Besides,  your  colonial  empire, 
such  as  it  is,  is  after  all  entirely  in  the  future ;  at 
present  it  is  all  failures  or  all  prospects.  So  far 
you  have  accomplished  nothing  definite.  The 
white  men's  settlements  you  possess  have  only 
begun  to  grow  and  are  barely  striplings;  the  ties 
that  bind  them  to  you  may  well  be  thrown  off 
when  they  are  full  grown,  for  they  are  light  and 
loose." 

"It  is  the  lightness  of  these  ties,"  I  retorted, 
"that  makes  their  strength,  for  these  nations  can 
choose  their  own  road  under  our  dominion.  As  in 
any  other  dependency  their  choice  and  their  direc- 
tion would  be  controlled,  they  will  be  reluctant  to 
enter  it.  They  will  never  want  to  throw  us  off 
who  can  give  them  protection  and  exact  no  de- 
pendence. If  dreams  of  Empire  are  to  be  indulged 
in,  ours  might  seem  more  legitimate.  All  the  fairest 
spots  of  the  other  continents  are  inhabited  by 
English  or  Anglicised  populations,  and  there  are 
no  unoccupied  places  left  to  others  but  swamps 
and  deserts.  As  their  destiny  is  to  increase  and 
multiply,  their  career  of  power  will  be  peaceful, 
and  to  pursue  it  they  will  not  have  to  overcome 
a  host  of  enemies  or  carry  out  vast  schemes  of 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  251 

conquest.  Their  growth,  if  it  takes  place,  will  be 
natural." 

Reinhold  shook  his  head. 

"  The  people  of  your  thalassic  empire  will  always 
be  heterogeneous  and  disunited.  The  English  can- 
not Anglicise,  that  is  evident.  Look  how  little 
homogeneous  your  own  island  is,  and  how  Scots 
and  Welsh  preserve  their  own  identity,  differences 
of  a  kind  that  are  innocuous  at  home  but  dangerous 
abroad." 

To  which  I  answered — 

"You  forget  what  an  instrument  of  conquest 
our  language  is,  which  uniting  irresistible  gram- 
matical simplicity  with  a  literature  of  surpassing 
richness,  can  and  does  extirpate  all  others.  Our 
culture  is  as  effective  a  means  of  government  as 
any  other,  even  as  blood  and  iron,  and  your  mis- 
apprehensions regarding  it  are  natural  and  quite 
explicable.  We  lie  rather  outside  the  main  flights 
of  ideas  which  circulate  easily  from  one  Conti- 
nental country  to  another,  but  which  do  not  fly 
across  the  Channel  easily.  Those  which  do  survive 
the  crossing,  arrive  rather  late  and  do  not  diffuse 
themselves  easily  among  the  masses  of  the  nation 
or  even  in  the  small  circle  of  intellectual  people. 
You  notice  their  absence,  and  it  misleads  your 
judgment.  But  here  again  this  insularity,  and 
the  Philistinism  it  may  produce  as  a  penalty,  has 
its  gains.  If  the  great  masses  of  the  nation  care 
more  for  sport  than  for  the  things  of  the  mind, 
our  culture,  which  within  a  narrow  circle  is  as 
intense  as  any  other,  has  an  originality  far  greater. 


252  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

It  develops  by  itself,  so  in  speculative,  both  scien- 
tific and  philosophical,  and  imaginative  fields  its 
achievements  during  the  last  century  are  at  least 
equal  to  yours,  not  to  carry  the  argument  farther 
back,  which  would  be  unfair,  as  before  that  date 
you  had  no  existence.  If  I  knew  more  about  it  I 
could  refute  you  more  thoroughly,  but  it  seems  to 
me  Spencer's  and  Mill's  influence  over  philosophy 
and  all  its  practical  applications  has  not  been 
equalled.  In  spite  of  your  prodigious  efforts,  the 
greatest  discoveries  in  the  field  of  science  are  ours, 
and  Darwin  has  at  least  affected  religious  thought 
as  much  as  any  one  else :  theology  must  deal  with 
him  as  well  as  with  Tubingen.  This  is  not  going 
far  back,  and  I  omit  the  long  ages  when  you  had 
not  yet  emerged.  Perhaps  it  is  merely  my  want  of 
knowledge  that  makes  me  ignorant  of  the  names  of 
any  great  German  painters,  though  we  have  had 
great  masters  quite  lately;  but  the  monuments  of 
your  literature,  new  as  they  are  and  untried  by  the 
test  of  time,  are  trifling  compared  with  ours.  So 
if  we  cannot  be  as  systematic  as  you  and  point  to 
such  schools  and  barracks,  we  can  show  the  most 
incomparable  body  of  poets  and  sailors,  for  on  the 
sea  and  in  the  imagination,  elements  which  demand 
individual  genius,  we  are  everybody's  masters." 

Reinhold  was  unbeaten  and  was  gathering  him- 
self for  a  retort,  when  Belphcebe,  who  thought 
there  was  some  acrimony  in  our  talk,  said — 

"  I  wish  you  would  stop  shouting  at  each  other 
and  read  me  that  poem  you  had  brought  out 
to  me." 


A   THREE-FOOT    STOOL  253 

Reinhold  took  the  newspaper  cutting  from  me 
and  answered — 

"  Very  well,  I  will :  some  of  the  sentiments  fall 
in  with  our  argument.  It  is  an  epithalamium." 

He  read  with  expression  but  an  unmelodious 
voice — 

"  First  let  us  both  together  go 
And  live  our  lives  alone  :  I  know 
A  lonely  mountainous  retreat, 
Of  solitude  the  chosen  seat. 
I  will  be  your  tender  guide 
To  show  you  vales  and  paths  untried. 
Through  the  thick  willows  there's  a  way 
To  waterfalls  all  foam  and  spray, 
That  tumble  down  with  noisy  shock 
To  pools  cut  in  the  living  rock. 
When  pitiless  the  fierce  sun  beats 
In  the  high  midsummer  heats, 
I'll  lead  you  to  the  stony  brim 
Of  the  deep  waterholes,  where  swim 
The  circling  shoals  of  silvery  trout 
And  wheel  and  turn  and  dart  about. 
While  on  the  slippery  edge  you  stand 
For  safety  I  will  hold  your  hand. 
After  the  day  of  heat  and  haste, 
The  coolness  of  the  night  we'll  taste, 
And  watch  the  coming  of  the  dark 
Together  :  how  from  the  faintest  spark 
Each  star  will  grow  to  glittering  light ; 
How  full  and  clear  the  moon  to-night 
Will  be  !     Over  that  Eastern  hill, 
All  black  and  high,  her  chariot  will 
Come  driving  from  her  palace  door 
And  o'er  the  dark  her  brightness  pour. 
Sometimes  we'll  climb  the  rocky  height, 
Ere  the  first  point  of  morning  light, 
Watching  the  summer  night  grow  pale: 
The  splendid  host  of  stars  does  fail, 


254  A.   THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

But  still  their  leader's  light  does  beat, 

The  last  to  move  in  the  retreat, 

As  yesterday  at  evening  time 

He  was  the  first,  alone,  to  climb 

Over  the  summit  of  the  hill. 

And  at  the  season  due  you  will 

Ride  out  with  me  when  every  bough 

Carries  its  winter's  weight  of  snow. 

As  underneath  our  way  we  make 

The  leaves  above  you'll  seize  and  shake 

And  laugh  to  see  the  heavy  shower 

On  my  wet  face  its  burden  pour. 

The  soft  and  snowy  carpet  spread 

Muffles  our  horses'  careful  tread ; 

We'll  find  the  hoof  of  a  young  doe 

Printed  on  the  glittering  snow 

As  if  a  chisel  skilled  and  light 

Had  cut  in  level  marble  white. 

Just  before  the  rising  dawn, 

At  night's  darkest,  with  her  fawn 

Down  the  hillside  she  came  to  drink; 

Timid  she  stood  there  by  the  brink 

And  gently  bending  took  her  fill 

Of  the  turbid  waters  chill. 

When  this  mountain  life  grows  stale, 

To  seek  the  town  we  will  not  fail ; 

We'll  look  down  from  the  wooded  height 

On  the  great  city  shining  white, 

Where  I  have  often  looked  alone 

On  that  vast  plain  of  glittering  stone. 

To  farthest  verge  of  earth  the  eye 

Can  see,  under  the  cloudless  sky, 

Bridges  with  graceful  arches  bold, 

Old  towers  and  spires  and  domes  of  gold  ; 

Lordly  palaces  and  fair, 

With  echoing  court  and  stately  stair, 

With  gallery  and  balustrade ; 

Triumphal  arches,  by  him  made 

At  whose  mere  name,  as  once  his  word, 

The  feverish  roll  of  drums  is  heard, 


A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL  255 

Regiment  after  regiment 

Rise  up,  with  eyes  upon  him  bent, 

A  field  of  ordered  bayonets, 

With  whose  flaming  points  he  sets 

His  trophies  up  in  every  clime, 

Mightiest  head  of  modern  time  ! 

A  sudden  flight  we  then  will  take 

To  an  Italian,  crystal  lake. 

The  steep  and  grassy  shores  around 

With  column'd  palaces  are  crowned; 

With  blazing  lights  their  windows  glow. 

Our  little  boat  across  I  row 

At  night :  the  towering  mountains  cast 

Their  shadows  on  that  surface  vast. 

The  terraces  and  gardens  dip 

Their  stairs  of  marble  to  the  lip 

Of  lapping  waters  :  we  moor  our  boat 

Where  spreading  water-lilies  float ; 

Violins  and  their  waltzing  hum 

Across  the  level  spaces  come, 

And  the  night  breeze  upon  its  wings 

The  scent  of  orange  blossoms  brings. 

Then  to  take  ship  to  see  the  Rock 

Whose  guardian  only  can  unlock 

The  gate  and  roadway  of  the  East. 

To  watch  the  land  we  have  not  ceased 

From  the  ship's  rail :  look  at  the  coast, 

For  every  cape  our  fleets  can  boast 

A  victory :  close  to  that  bay, 

Upon  a  famous  distant  day, 

While  ship  with  ship  in  grapple  locked 

And  heaving  decks  with  battle  rocked, 

Triumphant,  the  simple  hero  died 

Who  gave  us  our  dominion  wide 

Of  this  and  every  other  sea. 

Still  ours  may  these  waters  be, 

And  may  in  time  of  need  again 

Our  iron  forts  that  swim  the  main 

To  hostile  fleet  and  hostile  shore 

Speak  once  our  will,  and  speak  no  more." 


256  A    THREE-FOOT    STOOL 

After  he  had  stopped  Belphoebe  remarked — 
"That  is  very  nice.    Thank  you  very  much.     I 
like  that  part   about   Gibraltar  and  Nelson  espe- 
cially.    Tell   me,   I    am   very  stupid,  what   is   an 
Epithalamium?" 


THE   END 


Printed  by  BALLANTYNE,  HANSON  &*  Co. 
Edinburgh  &>  London 


SMITH,  ELDER,  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

2ND  IMPRESSION.  Demy  8vo.  los.  64.  net. 

HENRY  W.    LUCY'S   AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

With  a  Portrait  Frontispiece  in  Photogravure  from  a  Painting  by 
J.  S.  SARGENT,  R.A. 

SIXTY  YEARS  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 

SOME   PASSAGES   BY  THE  WAY. 

By  HENRY  W.  LUCY  ('Toby,  M.  P.' of  Punch). 

THE  TIMES. — '  An  autobiography  of  the  frankest  and  most  candid  kind.  .  .  . 
A  remarkable  career,  the  details  of  which  are  told  simply  and  unaffectedly  .  .  . 
full  of  anecdote.  .  .  .  It  is  all  very  clever  and  very  vivid. 


THE  BISHOP  OF    NORWICH. 

With  Portraits  and  Illustrations.     Large  post  8vo.  Js.  6d.  net. 
3RD  IMPRESSION. 

A  BISHOP  IN  THE  ROUGH. 

Edited  by  the  Rev.  D.  WALLACE  DUTHIE.      With  a  Preface  by 
the  Right  Rev.  the  LORD  BISHOP  OF  NORWICH. 

DAILY  TELEGRAPH.— 'F&scin&ting  horn  beginning  to  end.  ...  We 
recommend  no  one  to  miss  this  most  entertaining  volume.1 

Crown  8vo.  y.  6d.  net. 

THE  IMMORTALS'  GREAT   QUEST. 

By  the  Rev.  J.  W.  BARLOW,  Ex- Vice- Provost  of  Trinity 

College,  Dublin. 

CONTEMPORARY  REVIEW.-'  An  astonishingly  clever  book  :  clever  in  its 
conception  of  a  Utopia,  still  more  clever  in  the  vividness  with  which  this  strange 
Hesperian  world  is  brought  before  us.' 

2ND  IMPRESSION.  Crown  8vo.  6s.  net. 

THE  WANDER  YEARS: 

Being  some  Account  of  Journeys  into  Life,   Letters,  and  Art.      By 
J.    H.    YOXALL,    M.P.,    Author    of    'Chateau    Royal,'    'Alain 

Tanger's  Wife,'  &c. 

DAILY  TELEGRAPH.— 'This  fascinating  and  uncommonly  human  volume 
of  essays.  His  impressive  pages  are  stamped  with  the  seal  of  a  keen  individuality, 
and  abound  in  a  tender  charm  which  is  sure  to  attract  a  very  large  and  intelligent 
company  of  admirers  from  all  classes  of  the  educated  community  ' 


3RD  IMPRESSION,  2ND  EDITION.     Small  demy  8vo.  7.$-.  6d.  net. 

THE  MEANING  OF  MONEY. 

By  HARTLEY  WITHERS,  City  Representative  of  «  The  Times.' 

FINANCIAL  NEWS.—'  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Mr.  Withers's  book  will 
supersede  all  other  introductions  to  monetary  science  .  .  .  readers  will  find  it 
a  safe  and  indispensable  guide  through  the  mazes  of  the  money  market.' 


London:  SMITH,  ELDER,  &  CO.,  15  Waterloo  Place,  S.W. 


6/-      RECENT  FICTION.      6/- 

•THE   SUCCESS  OF  THE  SPRING  SEASON.' 

ARAMINTA. 

By  J.  C.  SNAITH.        4TH    IMPRESSION. 

SPHERE.-1  "  Araminta"  bids  fair  to  be  the  most  talked-of  novel  of  the 
hour  .  .  .  the  best  novel  of  1909  by  a  long  way.' 

LIVERPOOL  DAILY  POST.—'  So  joyous  a  novel  rarely  comes  our  way  .  .  . 
its  dialogue  is  uniformly  brilliant.  .  .  .  The  very  atmosphere  of  the  book  is  sunshine 
and  joy.' 


TERESA. 

By  EDITH  AYRTON  ZANGWILL.         2ND  IMPRESSION. 

TIMES.—1  Teresa,    simple    and   affectionate,   extraordinarily  ignorant  of  the 
world,  clings  to  the  reader's  heart.  .  .  .  Some  of  the  scenes  are  original  and  striking.' 

MORNING  POST.— '  A  story  full  of  surprises  and  full  of  interest.      Teresa, 
the  heroine,  is  really  a  triumph.  .  .  .  Mrs.  Zangwill  has  scored  a  success.' 


THE  STORY  OF  HAUKSGARTH  FARM. 

By  EMMA  BROOKE.        2ND  IMPRESSION.         [/» the  press. 

TIMES.— '  A  beautiful  and  touching  story.' 

LIVERPOOL  DAILY  POST.— 'For  intense  power,  boldly  used,  "The 
Story  of  Hauksgarth  Farm  "  takes  high  place.  .  .  .  Miss  Brooke  has  given  the 
world  a  revelation  of  the  Westmorland  of  the  middle  of  last  century.' 


GEOFFREY   CHERITON. 

By  JOHN  BARNETT.        2ND  IMPRESSION. 

TIMES.—'  We  have  laid  the  book  down  with  the  liveliest  feeling  of  regret  that 
now  we  cannot  read  it  for  the  first  time.' 

GLOBE.—'  A  man  who  writes  such  a  book  as  this  ought  to  wake  up  and  find 
himself  famous.     Decisively  original,  his  book  charms.' 

London  :  SMITH,  ELDER,  &  CO.,   15  Waterloo  Place,  S.W. 


6/-      RECENT    FICTION.      6/- 


DIANA    MALLORY. 

By  Mrs.    HUMPHRY  WARD. 
Fifth  Impression  (Third  Edition).      Over  90,000  copies  sold. 

From  the  LIVERPOOL  DAILY  POST.-  '"  Diana  Mallory"  is  a  great 
book,  great  in  the  charm,  correctness,  and  restraint  of  its  style,  great  in  the  fasci- 
nating skill  with  which  its  story  is  unfolded,  great  in  its  swift  and  dazzling  flashes 
of  poru»iture.' 


CATHERINE'S    CHILD. 

By  Mrs.    HENRY   DE   LA   PASTURE.     Second  Edition. 

SCOTSMAN.  —  'Some  of  the  best  qualities  of  the  work  of  the  author  of 
"  Catherine  of  Calais  "  are  revealed  in  "Catherine's  Child."  It  exhibits  her  genial 
yet  shrewd  philosophy  of  life,  and  the  simplicity,  combined  with  strength,  of  her 
style  and  the  charm  of  her  humour." 


WROTH. 

By  AGNES  and  EGERTON  CASTLE.      Second  Impression. 

DAILY  TEf.EGRAPH.—"T\it  splendid  gift  of  straightforward  narrative 
which  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Egerton  Castle  employ  so  skilfully  sweeps  away  all  senti- 
ment but  that  of  spell-bound  interest." 


ROUND    THE  FIRE    STORIES. 

By  A.  CON  AN  DOYLE.     With  a  Frontispiece.     Second  Impression. 

DAILY  TELEGRAPH.  'Sir  Arthur  has  here  collected  such  of  his  short 
stories  as  deal  with  the  weird,  bizarre,  and  supernatural ;  and  who  among  Jiving 
novelists  can  excel  him  in  this  particular  form  of  literature  ?  ' 


A    PAWN    IN    THE    GAME. 

By  W.    H.    FITCHETT,   B.A.,    LL.D. 

DAILY  TELEGRAPH.-1  A  book  to  be  cordially  recommended,   both  to 
those  who  enjoy  a  good  story  and  to  those  who  enjoy  adventure.' 


London:  SMITH,  ELDER,  &  CO.,   15  Waterloo  Place,  S.W. 


67-      RECENT  FICTION.      6/« 


THE    GREEN    PARROT. 

By  BERNARD  E.   J.   CAPES. 

GRAPHIC.—1  Mr.   Capes's  work  is  delicately  carved  and  finished.     Here,   as 
always,  it  has  distinction  combined  with  the  strength  of  originality.' 


THE    HOUSE    OF    THE    CRICKETS. 

By  KATHARINE  TYNAN. 

GLASGOW  HERALD.—  'Katharine  Tynan  cannot  touch  a  character  but  it 
lives.     In  our  opinion  "  The  House  of  the  Crickets  "  is  by  far  the  best  novel  she  has 


I 

yet  written. 


A    SHROPSHIRE    LASS  AND   LAD. 

By  Lady  CATHERINE   MILNES  GASKELL. 

STANDARD.— 'Lady  Milnes  Gaskell  has  returned  to  the  "Proud  Salopia" 
that  she  knows  so  intimately  and  describes  so  well.  .  .  .  These  "Episodes"  are 
described  with  much  natural  force  and  charm.' 


TORMENTILLA :  or,  The  Road  to  Gretna 
Green. 

By  DOROTHEA  DEAKIN. 

TIMES.—1  It  is  a  friendly,  pleasure-giving  picture  of  country  social  life  and, 
indeed,  something  more,  tor  all  the  t>  pes  have  character,  and  the  talk  is  full  of  real 


humour. 


THE   WOUNDS    OF   A    FRIEND. 

By  DORA  GREENWELL  McCHESNEY. 

WORLD. — 'That  spirited  and  imaginative  writer  of  historical  romances,  Miss 
Dora  Greenwell  McChesney,  has  given  us  a  picturesque  and  powerful  story.' 


London:   SMITH,  ELDER,  &  CO.,  15  Waterloo  Place,  S.W. 


RECENT   PUBLICATIONS. 
BIOGRAPHY  AND  REMINISCENCE, 

LORD  HALIBURTON. 

A   MEMOIR   OF    HIS   PUBLIC   SERVICES. 
By  J.    B.    ATLAY,   Author   of   '  Sir  Henry  Wentworth   Acland :  a 
Memoir,' 'The  Victorian   Chancellors,'  &c.     With  a  Portrait.      Small 

demy  8vo.  Ss.  6cL  net. 

OUTLOOK. — '  Lady  Haliburton  was  well  advised  to  place  the  record  of  her 
husband's  public  work  in  the  hands  of  a  skilful  and  judicious  biographer  like 
Mr.  Atlay .  .  .  the  late  Lord  Haliburton  represented  the  very  spirit  of  the  War 
Office.  .  .  .  That  he  was  a  distinguished  and  devoted  servant  of  the  State  was 
unquestionable. ' 

MEMORIES  OF  HALF  A  CENTURY. 

A  RECORD  OF  FRIENDSHIPS. 
By  R.   C.    LEHMANN,   M.P.     With  a  Photogravure  Frontispiece. 

Demy  8vo.  los.  6d.  net. 

DAILY  NEWS.— '  What  a  pageant  of  names  Mr.  Lehmann  marshals  before 
us  ...  great  and  distinguished  men  each  talking  in  his  own  person  about  big  and 
trifling  affairs  !  Mr.  Lehmann  succeeds  in  giving  u»  a  sort  of  portrait  gallery.' 

THE    LIFE    OF    MIRABEAU. 

By  S.  G.  TALLENTYRE,  Author  of  'The  Life  of  Voltaire,  'The 
Women  of  the  Salons,'  &c.     With  a  Photogravure  Frontispiece  and 

Half-tone  Illustrations.      Small  demy  8vo.  IDS.  6d.  net. 
EVENING  STANDARD.—1  it  is  racily  written  and  makes  good  reading.' 

BLACKSTICK    PAPERS. 

By  LADY  RITCHIE.    With  Portraits.     Large  post  8vo.  6s.  net. 

STANDARD.-'  Memories  of  Thackeray  himself  colour  nearly  all  these 
sketches  of  men  and  women,  with  many  of  whom  he  ^was  in  one  way  or  another 
connected.  .  .  A  volume  full  of  gracious  memories,  kindly  discourse,  and  gentle 
criticism.' 

RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  LIFE  IN  THE 

RPITI^H      APMV    DURING   THE  LATTER  HALF 
OKI  lion     AKMI     OF   THE   NINETEENTH   CENTURY. 

By  General  Sir  RICHARD  HARRISON,  G.C.B.  With  Illustrations. 
Demy  8vo.  I  or.  6d.  net. 

PERCY  :    Prelate  and  Poet. 

EDITOR    OF   THE   'RELIQUES   OF  ANCIENT   ENGLISH   POETRY.' 
By  ALICE  C.  C.  GAUSSEN,  Author  of  '  A  Later  Pepys '  and  « A 
Woman  of  Wit  and  Wisdom.'      With  a  Preface    by  Sir  GEORGE 
DOUGLAS,  Bart.,  a  Photogravure  Frontispiece  and  7  Half-tone  Illustra- 
tions.    Small  demy  8vo.  los.  6d.  net. 

EVENING  STANDARD.—1  Bishop  Percy  has  been  fortunate  in  his  bio- 
grapher. .  .  .  Miss  Alice  Gaussen  has  brought  to  bear  upon  her  work  a  great  deal  of 
tact  and  charm  (.  .  .  her  biography  achieves  the  important  end  of  making  its  subject 


a  living  person.' 


London:  SMITH,  ELDER,  &  CO.,  15  Waterloo  Place,  S.W. 


RECENT     PUBLICATIONS. 

TRAVEL  AND   HISTORY. 
ON    THE    COROMANDEL    COAST. 

By   Mrs.    F.    E.    PENNY,   Author  of  'The   Inevitable   Law,'   &c. 

Small  demy  8vo.  los.  6d.  net. 

DAILY  NEWS.— 'Mrs.  Penny  does  not  come  forward  in  this  book  as  an 
interpreter  of  India.  Her  attitude  is  consistently  that  of  an  interested  outside 
observer.  Her  book  is  quite  out  of  the  beaten  track  of  Anglo- Indian  literature.  It 
deserves  praise  both  as  an  entertaining  and  an  instructive  piece  of  work.' 

THE  STORY  OF  MAJORCA  AND 
MINORCA. 

By  Sir  CLEMENTS  R.  MARKHAM,  K.C.B.,  F.R.S.,  Author  of 
*  Richard  III.,'  '  King  Edward  VI.  :  an  Appreciation,'  &c. 

Small  demy  8vo.  "js.  6d.  net. 

M ORNING  POST.— '  The  story  of  these  Islands,  which  has  not  been  told 
before  in  the  British  language  in  a  condensed  form,  fills  a  gap  in  the  history  of 
Mediterranean  countries.' 

CHATEAU    AND    COUNTRY    LIFE 
IN    FRANCE. 

By  MARY    KING  WADDINGTON,   Author  of  «  Letters  of   a 

Diplomat's  Wife.'  &c. 
With  24  Illustrations.     8vo.  icu.  6d.  net. 

TIMES. — '  Madame  Waddington's  easy  conversational  manner  is  well  suited 
to  the  personal  reminiscences  of  French  social  life  which  she  here  gathers  together ; 
and  the  attraction  of  the  book  is  much  enhanced  by  excellent  pencil  drawings  of 
social  scenes  and  landscapes.' 

THE    EARLY    HISTORY    OF    THE 
TORIES. 

FROM  THE   ACCESSION   OF   CHARLES   IL  TO  THE 

DEATH  OF  WILLIAM  IIL  (1660-1702). 
By  C.  B.  ROYLANCE-KENT,  M.A.     Demy  8vo.  12s.  6d.  net. 

LIVERPOOL  DAILY  POST. — 'A  writer  of  painstaking  research  and  very 
polished  style.  In  "  The  Early  History  of  the  Tories  "  Mr.  Kent  is  at  his  best,  and 
not  merely  confirms,  but  also  enhances,  a  reputation  already  won  for  work  well  and 
thoroughly  done.1 

THE    MAN    OF   THE    MASK: 

A  STUDY  IN  THE  BYWAYS  OF  HISTORY. 
By  Monsignor  BARNES,    Chamberlain  of  Honour  to   H.H.   Pope 

Pius  X.     Small  demy  8vo.  los.  6d.  net. 

MORNING  POST.—1  Monsignor  Barnes  has  gone  into  the  historical  records 
for  himself,  and  has  propounded  an  ingenious  theoiy  as  the  solution  of  the  myttery 
of  the  "  Man  of  the  Maslc." ' 

London:  SMITH,  ELDER,  &  CO.,  15  Waterloo  Place.  &W. 


T.  P.'s  W^-ff AX  K-' Messrs.  Smith,  Elder  seem  to  have  put  into 
most  successful  practice  the  old  maxim  that  bids  us  mix  entertain- 
msnt  with  instruction.  And  sometimes  the  instrueti-m  turns  out  to 
toe  more  entertaining  than  the  entertainment.' 


THE  ORIGIN    OF  THE    SENSE    OF 
BEAUTY. 

By  FELIX  CLAY,  Architect.     Author  of  '  Modern  School  Buildings, 

Elementary  and  Secondary,  £c.      Large  post  8vo  6s.  net. 
SCOTSMAN.—'  An  interesting,   suggestive,   and  well  thought  out  treatise, 
which  should  be  read  with  profit  by  anyone  curious  to  find  an  intellectual  explanation 
of  his  likes  and  dislikes/ 

SELECTED  SPEECHES.  Wlth  IN£g?g£CTORY 

By  the  Right  Honourable   Sir  EDWARD  CLARKE,   P.C.,  K.C., 

Solicitor-General    1886-1892.     Author   of   'Treatise  on   the  Law  of 

Extradition,'  &c.    With  a  Portrait.     Small  demy  8vo.  ^s.  6d.  net. 

TIMES.—'  Many  of  them  are  excellent  reading :  they  rivet  the  attention.  This 
is  particularly  true  of  the  forensic  speeches.  The  political  speeches  are  even  more 
conspicuous  by  the  manliness  of  tone  and  courage  which  have  marked  Sir  Edward 
Clarke's  career.' 

MEGGIE:    a  Day  Dream. 

By  LADY  ALGERNON  PERCY. 

With  Eight  Full-page  Illustrations  by  F.  D.  BEDFORD.     Crown  8vo.  6s. 
GENTLEWOMAN.— "The  child  is  a  true  child,   and  the  dream  world  the 
authoress  weaves  around  her  is  the  right  world  for  children.' 

PRESENTING  THE  CASE  FOR  WOMEN  SUFFRAGE. 

THE    HUMAN    WOMAN. 

By  LADY  GROVE,  Author  of  '  The  Social  Fetich.' 
Second  Edition.     With  a  Vignette  Title-page.     Demy  8vo.  5^.  net. 

DAILY  TELEGRAPH. — '  A  seasonable  and  admirably  reasoned  contribution 
to  the  burning  question  of  the  day,  "  Votes  for  Women."  .  .  ,  This  book  should  be 
widely  read  and  studied  by  all.  It  is  admirable  in  temper,  and  solid  in  logic  and 
argument.' 

With  Facsimiles  of  Five  Authentic  Autograph  Signatures  of  the  Poet. 

WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE :  vl*™?$lS**er' 

A   REPLY  to   Mr.    GEORGE  GREENWOOD,    M.P.* 
By  the  Reverend  CANON   BEECHING,   D.Litt.,  Canon  of  West- 
minster, Preacher  to  the  Honourable  Society  of  Lincoln's  Inn. 

Second  Edition.     Crown  8vo.  2s.  net. 

SCOTSMAN.— 'Dr.  Beeching's  handling  of  Mr.  Greenwood  and  his  "case" 
is  most  masterly  and  yet  perfectly  fair.' 

DUNDEE  ADVERTISER.— 'Canon  Beeching  examines  Mr.  Greenwood's 
"  case  "  in  a  way  that  will  delight  all  anti-Baconians.' 

POEMS. 

ByJ.  GRIFFYTH  FAIRFAX,  Author  of  « The  Gates  of  Sleep,  and 

other  Poems." 

With  a  Silhouette  Frontispiece.     Crown  8vo.  4*.  net. 
DAILY  CHRONICLE.—'  A  Rising  Star  of  Song-this  little  book  shows  him 
to  possess  a  genuine  poetic  gift,  which,  if  it  develops  progressively,  should  win  him  a 
high  place  among  the  singers  of  our  day.' 


London  :  SMITH,  ELDER,  &  CO.,  15  Waterloo  Place,  S.W. 


WORKS  BY  ARTHUR  C.  BENSON,  C.V.O. 

Large  post  8vo.  7s.  6d.  net,  each. 


AT  LARGE. 

SECOND  IMPRESSION  IN  THE  PRESS. 

DAILY  CHRONICLE.— \  This  is,  in  its  way,  the  most  frankly  personal  of 
the  "  Benson  books  "  as  yet  published.  It  is  all  graceful,  soothing,  and  pleasant—  the 
very  bock  for  tired  minds  in  a  nerve-racking  world.' 

THE    ALTAR    FIRE. 

SECOND  IMPRESSION. 

WORLD. — '  In  conception  and  in  execution  this  study  of  a  high-souled  but 
inveterate  egoist,  converted  to  humility  and  altruism  by  the  discipline  of  suffering, 
is  an  achievement  of  rare  power,  pathos,  and  beauty,  and,  so  far,  incomparably 
the  finest  thing  that  its  author  has  given  us.' 

BESIDE    STILL    WATERS. 

THIRD   IMPRESSION. 

DAIL  Y  CHRONICLE.—*  "  Beside  Still  Waters  "  gathers  together  the  scattered 
threads  which  have  been  already  introduced  into  several  of  Mr.  Benson's  more 
recent  studies ;  it  consolidates  his  attitude  in  life,  and  gives  full  expression  to  his 
mellow  and  contented  philosophy." 

FROM    A    COLLEGE    WINDOW. 

THIRTEENTH  IMPRESSION  (Fourth  Edition). 

DAILY  GRAPHIC.—*  One  of  the  most  delightful  books  of  the  year." 
LONDON  QUARTERLY  REVIEW.-*  Will  be  read  again  and  again  with 
eager  interest.' 

GUARDIAN.—1  We  have  nothing  but  praise  for  Mr.  Benson's  book.' 

THE    UPTON    LETTERS. 

FOURTEENTH  IMPRESSION  (Second  Edition).     With  a  Preface. 

DAILY  CHRONICLE. — '  If  anyone  supposes  that  the  art  of  letter  writing  is 
dead,  this  volume  will  prove  the  contrary.  .  .  .  Altogether  this  is  a  curiously 
intimate  and  very  pathetic  revelation." 

Large  post  8vo.  6s.  net 

THE    GATE    OF    DEATH  :    a    Diary. 

THIRD  IMPRESSION  (Second  Edition).     With  a  New  Preface. 

SPECTATOR. — 'A  very  striking  book.  .  .  .  The  story  of  a  dangerous 
accident  and  a  long  convalescence  is  so  told  as  to  take  powerful  hold  upon  the 
reader,  and  it  is  difficult  to  lay  the  book  down." 


London  :  SMITH,    ELDER,   &  CO.,  15  Waterloo  Place,  S.W. 


